Counting Sheep

Past 12,
And she's still on the fence.
Which side shall she leap for?
Will on green grass be what she depends?

Children grew up
And she's still on training wheels
Still too slow to run from the big sheep-wolf
It hunts her endlessly;

Lies, and lives on
From lipsticked lips
Lined with synthetic teeth of treachery,
Is chasing, and is being chased
With teetering legs
Powered by insecurity

Why do sheep make-up their faces
Did they do it wrongly to their minds?
Why do sheep chase other sheep
When they're of the same kind?
Why are sheep in these clothes
When wolves are imagined?

Some nightmare; being awake.