The black heart of secrets
pressed into my young chest
and even a single breath of trust
had to travel miles of agony
to reach enough light to thrive.
When light left my windowsill
nightmares argued at the end
of my bed about which terror
would walk across my dreams.
I remember when the night voices
came to the brave side of my pillow,
and led me where shadows
had pretty colors and kind words.
Imagination tended my wounds
until it grew a name on my tongue
to address the tiny saviors who
lived in the valley of invisible.
Pillowkins, I called them Pillowkins,
dream warriors who giggled me
out of the jaws of a demon.
When nightmares clawed
my eyes into hollow,
my tiny army would
lead me to a place of peace
where the moon didn’t bleed
nor the fox stalk my throat
to see if truth was growing
strong enough to expose lies.
I really love the ending with the fox and truth telling. A child's journey.
ReplyDeleteI love the night voices coming to the brave side of your pillow, and, especially, the giggling dream warriors. The fox image is amazing!
ReplyDeleteMy goodness this is incredibly evocative in its portrayal of the nightmares of a child, Susie! I could feel every word, every emotion and image as I read through with awe. I applaud you for your kind and brave spirit! Thank you so much for writing to the prompt!❤️
ReplyDeleteI wonder how much of this comes from your childhood. The image of the fox is incredible. Glad you had the pillowkins.
ReplyDeleteWow! Brilliant writing, and how fantastic to have the Pillowkins.
ReplyDeleteI love the way you needed this, and all throughout I felt the terror.
ReplyDeleteOh I could use me some pillowkins these days, yessir.
ReplyDeleteI have goosebumps~ I feel like this is a living daymare. The valley of the invisible is haunting! Bravo! I am so, glad I came to the Garden for a visit~ Thank you!
ReplyDeleteThe last stanza, those last two lines... powerful.
ReplyDeletewhere shadows
ReplyDeletehad pretty colors and kind words...
so much vivid imagery in this poem!
The title got me thinking about what could be under or in a pillow – I sometimes hear noises from mine. I love the lines:
ReplyDelete‘When light left my windowsill
nightmares argued at the end
of my bed about which terror
would walk across my dreams’
and
‘Imagination tended my wounds
until it grew a name on my tongue
to address the tiny saviors who
lived in the valley of invisible’.
Reminds me of how I feel about my bed...my safe place
ReplyDelete