She is not afraid of the dark
She is afraid of what is in the dark
The voices of insecurity that scream
When the house settles at night
When the sun exchanges places with the moon
When she is left alone with a chorus of haunting wails   

She yanks the pillows over her head
To stifle midnight’s growing howls
But they grow louder    deafeningly defiant  

Her heart begins to race    a thrum of pounding beats
Her breath as shallow as a ripple of water    disturbed by a pebble
Her skin   a collection of sweltering dew  

She bolts up from the bed
Like a sea anchor
She grounds herself against the choppy waters
Places her bare soles on
The red oak flooring       warm tones
The hardwood carries the weight
That she cannot carry  

She slowly inhales    
Exhales a blend of ylang ylang and lavender     diffuser
Glances around the room
Eyes fastening on her snake plant  

She whispers
I have survived this before  

The howling sounds
Of midnight’s despair
Retreats into the corridors of silence