In bed
I build
A little fort of books
To keep away
The bad dreams
And the memories.
My paper moat
Is filled with people of courage
Compassion
In the face of brutality
Wisdom,
Patient rage,
Love-
All the things that are monsters
To the monsters that hunt me.
Here I lay, naked
In the dark, and alone
But not without defence
My authors speak on my behalf
When I am lost with weeping
They shape the dark
Give it name
Whisper to me
The limits of its lies.
Sarah K Reece 
🙂 Thanks Carolyn, authors are powerful!
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Beautiful, Sarah, just beautiful. I love this idea, that the authors who speak to us and for us, help to keep us safe.
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