An ode to myself .

afterglow art backlit birds
The Wake – Up Fairy

 

I lie Still ,  desperate to remain good

my insides squirm.

The woman pads around the room punitively

Attending to any slight misdemeanour ,   the

twitches are recorded in her list .

Who will Be the Wake up Fairy? 

Slowly , I sense the others drifting off to sleepy realms

their breathes ;  soft like the shore –

How do they sleep in this tangle of bodies?

Who will be the Wake up Fairy?

NOT ME

She knows that beneath the stubborn frame

I lie awake .  Disobedient child.

How I long to just submit , to drift away and escape the longing

to be the one who wakes.

The chosen child who gets to be the prized , dainty , wake up queen.

Time Stops.

Punished by the routine .

Sleep?

How to they sleep ?  I am 3 , perhaps 4 , I want to roar around and climb

I come to play , not lie here as part of her token regime

I shift my limbs

I just want to be me.

Perhaps there was a time when I floated among the others ,

crowned the Fairy Of Sleep.

But this is the only memory I have  –

My first in fact.

Book ending the shadows of my existence .

As I Lay today , resting in the darkness of my yoga end,

I landed back in that room of limbs –

I took the hand of my childhood self and we chatted through

the expanse of time.

She is no longer alone .  I love her .   Now she is just me

And together , we can just BE.

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