Sometimes, when you sleep, you scream.

The sound rips me awake. 

And I run. 

 To you.

You’re soaked in sweat.  Crumpled in covers.  And tears fall from your lids.

You’re asleep.

The only sound from your struggle has been stifled in slumber.

The thick, groggy, haze holds you hostage.

And I hate it.

So, I whisper.

You’re safe.  You’re loved.  You’re wanted.

You’re kind.  You’re funny.  You’re smart.

You’re handsome.  You’re sweet.  You’re special.

You never need to have another nightmare again.

But if you do.

Scream.

And I’ll run.

To you.

Related posts:

1. Finally. You Sleep.
2. Toddler Talk
3. There’s. Nothing. Funny. About. It.
4. The Dating Dilemma of a Married Mom
5. A Song For Baby’s Brother

Tags: nightmare, Reichen, sleeping

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