I told you my daemons existed
Those that hide behind the rungs of the chair
Their teeth dull and aching still wanting to gnash at you
In the shape of a smile, a gash on their eyeless faces
Hands shaped like worn branches
Reach out to hold you, broken and gnarled
Feet firmly planted in your dreams
And hearts licking your nightmares
Patiently waiting to taste the scraps of your thought
Starving for the light of your gaze to free them
Pet them; they will be soothed with your calloused hands
Speak their names curling them in the safe of your lap
Forget them not for they will disappear
In time with child infused innocence
(J Smith 2010)
