So I dream…
Visions of deep green scenery, entrances to enigmatic forests
Glades and pools secreted for my mind only
Just for tonight, I know…
It’s always “just for tonight”
It’ll all be a blur in the morning…
It’ll all be aching longing in the morn—

The hand of reality snatches me out of my cloister
I watch it fade out as I desperately struggle for release
But it’s all over after my eyes unclose
No use fighting anymore
Whatever for?
You
Against my arm, I feel the rhythm of your pulse skitter alarmingly
Our eyes unite at once – mine questioning, yours alert…
Yours defined by fear

Alarm throws my mind into action
I implore you to speak reason of the horror you’re soaked with
Don’t deny it, I interrupt – you’re trembling from its chill
You plead with your eyes, you desire not to go back there…
I encase my hand in yours for support
I feel as if I have plunged it into a December-stricken river

Your small voice enters the dark of the room now
It’s tremulous as it details an account of a horrible nightmare
A nightmare! Relief warms my blood
But it isn’t warm for long
Depictions of such unthinkable deaths, of such terrifying, villainous creatures
Malevolent beings who shattered your sleep
Thoughts of death which thrilled every nerve in your body
Cries of pain and desperation that still echo in your head…
“Michelle? Can you take it away?”
The hope, the desperation of the request floats in the air…

“Michelle? Can you take it away?”
You repeat at my silence
Thank God for this impenetrable darkness
I’m a scared animal, so you know
Fibers are numb, my thoughts are void
Slight panic starts to clutch me
How can I dispel your worry?
How can I take your horrors and translate them to soothing dreams?
How can I rest assured that if I send you back to sleep, insouciant thoughts will be your transport?

I hate it for you
I hate that I’m not so overwhelmingly good at mothering childhood frights
I hate that I cannot find the words that will uncloak the fuliginous veil of fear over you   
Confrontations with brutal reality have never been my specialty
But I cannot cast you away as you are
I cannot return you to the corrupted, haunted place of your mind
No telling how it will torture you next
What can I do for you…?

“Michelle? Have you ever been very scared?” You begin to cry
I gather you and tell you yes, though I don’t know if I’ve ever been as scared as you are
I close my eyes and try to think that perhaps I’m trying far too hard
Tears start to faucet from your eyes
I’m failing you
If I wasn’t, you wouldn’t be crying
Crying for fear of slipping away into your nightmare again

A single thought comes to mind
A radiant thought, flushed with light
It’s hardly enough
It’s all I have
“Do you want to hear a story, Andrew?” I offer
I gather my handful of happy endings and sunlit tales
I start to speak
Words, my only weapon, silently start to slay the bats and demons of your mind
I feel you – you’re so cold
I speak somewhat louder, I brighten our journey through my simple stories
The numbness of you begins to leave

I let you into my happier dreams
I adjust the most beautiful ones for you, though those are the most nebulous
I feel the dark things crawl away from you, driven away by burning light from my stories
My voice starts to wane, still holding up for you
Still forefending you from terror

Hazy grey morning leaks through the window
I find you peacefully asleep in my arms
I speak the final word of my chronicles of hope
That must have been the cure for your symptoms
I rest my head atop yours
And feel sleep start to tug at me, pulling me away again
But before I go, I begin to think…
Perhaps we’ve both defeated our nightmares.