if you think you know fear

you should come visit me here

i am not death &

i am not tall

(neither am i small)

when i enter your room

& pour salt in your wounds

i can show you a dream that will leave you alarmed

(i am not sleep; do not ask for me upon a shooting star)

when i hold you in my arms

i am softer than your mother’s cries

do not try to keep me near

i am nothing like the glory of the light

when you cross my way, remember this:

the witch comes at night

if you wish to stay alive,

give her something else to keep and bite