Those are the moments
When I see horns on her head
With blood shot eyes all going red
The stickiness is much to feel
Feels like an envelope to seal
Thousand visions under one
I curse the yellow ball, they call Sun
With each tick tock, they fade away
Remember the holidays of summer in May
When 8, 9, 10, 11 were all the same
Getting up early, was a forgotten game
I feel the pull of my bed much tighter
Ignoring her words ‘the day is brighter’
I wonder when she was a kid
Letting me sleep, she never did
Bargaining for time 30, 20,10,5
From the pool of sleep, out I dive
Sad face and Sadder body
It’s time again, to get ready.
Promising of returning again, to my dearest bed
There is much more to this trauma then I just said.
