The Girl of Nothing

She is reached in sleep by turning rooms

Falling nightstands and glowing mushrooms.

Lamps flicker and pillows strangle

The arms she is in entangle

Here in a grasp she cannot place

As it tilts, morphs in her head space

Into the strangle of vines

And with her intertwines

Till it crushes and clenches.

She awakes, to floor wrenches

And heaves onto the carpet

Dry air and tears are met.

Shaking and trembling she crawls

Back into bed to, she bawls

Silently feeling unseen, unheard

From day to day just ushered.

Her thoughts rear, fester and form

Till she finds nothing left to mourn.