It might be,
pre menstrual cramp,
a drummer boy,
blade in hand
Perforating holes through
scars of ovaries.
Or it could be the tiredness
that 5am brings in the silence of
darkness,
it might be nothing,
everything,
or a little in between.
It is perhaps a rise
in hormones a dip in
pain levels and the swirling
tug of sore muscles.
It could be a lack of chocolate
A need for food, a rumbling
stomach…
Or storage heaters,
an insomniacs personal
hell, not enough
covers…
A lack of stars
A lack of snow
A lack of moon…
the essence of hera, fear
unknown or the
endless realm of thoughts…
Everything so silent
Everything so distant
Everything so dark
Everything so…
Karen Hayward ©2017