For mom.

She's dreamin demons
even by the daylight,
and she's screamin, screamin
at the start of night
shadow foes and memories bite
mind circles,
oh, how she fights
herself, the past,
losing sight,
on the floor she laughs
yet holding tight
while the world tips
and sanity renders
she shuts the door
counting splinters.
And who are we
in her dream?
Killer fiends and rapist kings
children lost
and husbands scattered
broken things
and days a'tattered.
Red and blue
come flashing in
up we go, off again
to sterile boxes
and white, white sheets
special pills to make her sleep
rubber slippers
and open gowns
shrieking whispers
and scratching sounds.
One phone, one bath
one pillow too
no dogs, no cats,
what's there to do?
Forced relaxing and solitude
classes, groups,
to get her through
then out she goes, into the world
until once again
we hear her roar

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