When the Night Whispered My Name

When the night whispered 

my name,

at first, it sounded 

a lot like me,

a lot like reminders

that triggers/alarms

that I can't turn off

lingering & holding tomorrow

for ransom;

Sounds a lot like my parents --

my mom

who never quite sounds

satisfied, never quite

proud enough,

never seems to bite her tongue enough

to permit letting it slip out that 

I'm 'the reason,'

later correcting herself

like a buffering grammer

check 'one' of the reasons.

When the night whispered my name,

it sounded a lot like

my urges to call you,

to make amends

for something I haven't even done,

sounded like the first time

you called my name &

how it sounded like baptismal music

But then I listened again

the voice swiftly changed

into reality, into you, into

your lingering torment

how it sets traps,

I know once I fell into

I wouldn't be able to crawl 

out of still fully inside myself.

When the night whispered 

my name,

even now, I lay there

scared, unsure how

to answer

Is it God?

Why would you be

visiting me at this hour?

Why is his voice full of 

confusing fluctuation?

God is not the author of confusion.

Is this modern spiritual warfare?

Am I under attack?

When night whispers my name,

every now & then

deep inside a dream

I finally sit up to see

a small girl sitting on

the edge of my twin sized bed.

She's crying.

I don't know why.