I dreamt of you at age 9,
\nbut you were terrifying then.
\nYou moved in the dark,
\ninvisible limbs seething out of the mirrored closet.
\nI crept into my mother’s bedroom,
\nsliding under her sheets,
\neyes tight, closed,
\npraying that you weren’t real.
\n\nI didn’t really dream of you,
\nat least, it wasn’t really you,
\nbecause you were never a dream I had,
\nor would allow myself to have.
\n\nBefore you were here breathing, you were an ache.
\nWe took you up to the mountains, and I couldn’t breathe,
\nthinking my chest would burst.
\nI slept for days in the desert.
\n\nThen, there were the months during which
\nyou incubated inside of me,
\na growth,
\na grainy image on a screen.
\nWe didn’t give you a name.
\n\nUntil we did.
\n\nYou grew in phases, the first
\nspent mostly asleep.
\nThe second on fire with wanting.
\nThe third, locked up during a plague
\nthat half the world denied,
\na constant thrum of fear.
\n\nTwo weeks late, early in the morning,
\nyou slipped out of me.
\nMy voice was raw for days from the screaming.
\n\nYou tugged at me for weeks after,
\nkept me sedated during long nights
\nof unreality.
\n\nNow as the sun comes through the windows
\nof our early mornings,
\nyou smile at me.
\nI realize you are the nightmare
\nI never knew I longed for.\n\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n
<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I dreamt of you at age 9, but you were terrifying then. You moved in the dark, invisible limbs seething out of the mirrored closet. I crept into my mother’s bedroom, sliding under her sheets, eyes tight, closed, praying that you weren’t real. I didn’t really dream of you, at least, it wasn’t really you, … <\/p>\n