Comments and concrit welcome!
Not all the dreams are nightmares.
Those come every time I shut my eyes. Faces twist out of proportion, blurring and running in shades of gray and red. Laughter echoes. Blows smash into my back, chest, stomach--no pain, but coming one on top of the other so I can’t catch my breath and the world spins away. . . .
The others come when I least expect them. Darkness cut by a familiar smell, lavender and chamomile. A light touch strokes the crown of my head, smoothing my hair and unbruised scalp.
Tears still come, when I wake, but these don’t hurt.