I have learnt

I have learnt

My days are Their 

Nights. From the Quiet,

I listened to Them 

Sometimes. 

They scream at night - 

Others - 

Twisted beneath layers

Of blankets and 

Deadly fantasies. 

They whisper of

Nightmares and feeling

That they are drowning,

Even in the safety of their

Warm bed. That they are 

Being ripped apart by madness

And dipped into God's bowl

Of Insanity. That They are being torn to shreds

By monsters They themselves conjure. They dream their pain. 

And They heave relief

Each end, each curtain call,

Waking up to sunlit mornings. 

I don't.