Afraid Of the Dark
How many times must I rinse off the moon
And unpeel the stars from my skin?
Have someone ask what were you drinking?
How many times must I try clinging to lamp lights?
Try configuring keys into shining beacons?
I cannot see in the dark
Yes, blackouts steal my sight
But when finished,
I wake up feeling feverish
And fear ferments and festers
The night can be sticky
Hard to rinse away
Harder to let the drops run off of my back
I squirm when you do not let me slumber
When you do not tiptoe around the subject
When you look out of the window
At that mouth of sky
At the visceral tissues of midnight
At the pulsating and palpitating galaxy
At the intricate veins of my solar system
At the quivering, shivering, silver stars
That dot around that obese heart, titled moon
I squirm when you reach for the telescope
I squirm when you call “it” by what it really is
When you call it by its name
When you call it
I squirm every time
I turn on all the lights
And then, I deny the night