Perfection is Imaginative

Bedtime Worries

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Free Verse


I watch the moon

take its place high in the sky.

My heart begins to race,

in fear of the festivities

the evening has in store for me.

As my mother takes away

the sun from my internal sky,

I hide under my blanket.


As the closing door

absorbs the remaining light

from the hall,

the moonlight lurks

through my bedroom window.

Giving a life like form

to surrounding objects.

I’m petrified.

Completely on edge.

Only a period of repose

can save me from

this conscious nightmare.


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