To Save You From Yourself
I am seventeen, you are ten
asleep in the faded-oak
bed, visions of sugar-plum demons
hovering between your hair
Sheathed in fairy-petal
sheets, guarded by legions
of stuffed cupcakes and pumpkins
you dream on unaware
Tearing wide eyes, collapsing
at the foot of my pillow
I hope you fight the devils
which will hound at your heart
Hidden in wisdom and psalms
and amethyst roses,
I pray
you build castles
during twelve-year-old sieges
balance on rooftops in snowstorms
and watch past the horizon
the great messy cobweb
of dirt highways, pebble bridges
of shiny tears ad messy laughter
it's yours, sister, stop sleeping.