She wonders if angels take breaks
and go to sleep.
If they work on a rota
and someone is late
Would that explain why
they didn't hear her weep
Or see her little body rake
with sobs so great.
Someone told her that love and faith
held hands and kept pain at bay
It was never strong enough to keep him away
Not once safely in bed she could lay.
At school she was pig tailed and uniformed grey
and with everybody else she was the same.
But she felt her difference wound
tightly around her woman's place.
Everyone else was to her
what white paper was to an ink stain.
She prayed and prayed
and still he came.
Everything matted and heavy
Like breathing lead.
Others count ceiling tiles
and try to escape the mental constraints of this bed,
she, instead asks God 'can you hear me'
Your angels may not have given you my message
But I left one with them last night
and all the nights that precede this.
You created life and now I'm begging you to take it.
Not knowing how wrong
But knew it could never be right
her body too weak
so her spirit put up the fight.
And because she lives
she knows angels do not sleep at night
That they delivered her message
and in her He put it right.