By Ashlee

I wrote this poem about one of my friends who used to have nightmares when he was younger.

“Luke is Sleepwalking”

Who you are

When you’re sleeping scares me

You start whispering vicious things

I hope you don’t mean

Subtly, subconsciously

I can only hold you for so long

Before you break free

To walk into the darkness

And become a child

The night your father

And me crawling

Out of the warmth

Chasing you, bathing you in light

Racking you in my arms

Your beard rubbing my chest raw

While I sing reassuringly

The closest I’ll come to

Being a mother

After I wrote the poem above, I heard this song about the terrors of the night:

“Night Terror” by Laura Marling

I woke up and he was screaming.
I’d left him dreaming.
I roll over and shake him tightly, and whisper “If they want you, then they’re gonna have to fight me,”
(Oh, fight me)
I woke up on a bench on Shepherd’s Bush Green
Oh a candle at my chest, and a hand on his knee.
I got up it was dark there’s no-one in this park at this hour,
How do I keep finding myself here?
Oh, fight me.
If I look back and he is screaming,
I’d left him dreaming, the dangers fade,
I’ll run back and shake him tightly
And scream “if they want him, then they’re gonna have to fight me!” (Oh, fight me).
But if I wake up on a bench on Shepherd’s Bush Green
Oh, a candle at my chest, and a hand on his knee.
I’ll roll over and hold him tightly, and scream “If you want him, well you’re gonna have to fight me!” (Oh, fight me).

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