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.