She has a gaze like a dead child's
Hollow and sad
yet she doesn't seem to mind
For I've never heard her
complain or sigh or cry

I ask if she is hurt
if she is needing some assistance
But she claims
One cannot be assisted
through nightmares manifested

So I let her be
to wallow in her scars
to make love to nostalgia
and tomorrow --

She will be a dead child.