They’ll push you out of bed in the morning
Eyes stuck shut with sticky treacle
Head rolling on the ground
With a neck that’s too sleepy to hold it up
They’ll walk you,
With your matchstick legs,
To the tomb you’ve died in many times
Rip the sheets off your warm skin
And tuck you in to old ones
Change the pillows so it smells like a greenhouse
Hear them when they tell you you’re better
That you’re well enough to steady your own shaking hands
Listen when they say you’re fixed enough
To draw your curtains without tying a noose.
Hide the stains of blood that poured from your neck
Bleach the matress if you need to.
Pretend you feel safe on your own at night
Let them plunge you into darkness when they turn off the light
As they say a prayer for you
A ‘goodnight’ to hope you survive
They say
You need to sleep in your own bed now
You know you’re not a child anymore sweetie,
Don’t you?

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