Sunshine

Just a little girl,
Lights off,
Eyes closed,
Unable to settle after her mind was just racing a million miles an hour, 
After her feet were jumping from wall to wall,
Until she feels the familiar weight create an indent next to her on the bed.
The hands that belong to this weight begin to tuck her in. 
The blanket starts to hug her tighter.
She feels warmer and safer. 
And the soft voice begins to sing.
“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine.”
The melodies of her childhood. 
The words enter her ears like conditioner into silky hair. 
“You make me happy, when skies are gray.”
She is able to lie there and listen.
The gentle hand begins to trace soothing circles on her back. 
And the light fingers brush over her eyelids.
“You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you.” 
Absolute calm and then sleep.
But she knows that the voice and the hand and the weight stay there.
For a long time.
Singing and circling. 
“So please don’t take my sunshine away.”
The little girl is me.
And this moment is my saving grace.
It’s the only place I can go 
When I don't want to be here,
When being in my own head gets too hard.
I remember the hands and the voice and the weight.
And the person they belonged to. 
My home away from home.
My escape.