Right Before The False Dawn Poem by James McLain

In the false dawn is when
He comes.
Unaware of your surroundings
Weakness settles,
as a light cloud all around you.

The more that you struggle,
the more that you feel like you are being
held down.

Your cover's are pulled back and you know,
something else is in the room.
Night visitors that have come while you sleep
have taken turns
that have left you warm and wet and still you sleep.

You don't own a dog,
But you still open up like a flower.
Something heavy but light,
Living alone,
where quite sucking noises could indicate
Here that someone has died.