you offer the nightlight
like it’s everything,
like it’s salvation,
like it’s the hand of god
reaching down from above
to rescue my tortured soul
from the things that go
bump in the night
like it’s the bread that my
empty stomach lacks or
the medicine that could
stop the shaking
like it’s your mother’s touch
when you were a child
home sick from school
or your father’s steady
hand picking you up
after a fall
but listen,
we are not of the same world
and my home
is a cool place
my comfort a shadow
to slide beneath when the
heart-rend and bone-break
have reached their limits
and if you must offer anything
let it be
your voice
in your softest whisper
carried into the darkness
i am here, i am here, i am here.
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