Under the Covers

I feel like we’re speaking from a place of shame and fear. Just scared little kids in our beds, under the covers. Cold, alone, still waiting all these years later for our parents to tell us…you’re safe, you’re good, you’re not in trouble, you have my help. They never came in though. We would love to replace them for each other. How can we when we, too, are still under the covers? If only we were the safety. If we make each other good. If we avoid any trouble. Be our own helpers… maybe they’ll come in and free me. Do what they say! Stop! It’s all your fault! You messed up again? Maybe this is why they never came in. I don’t want to either. And just like that… we’re alone under the covers again…
Or we could just cuddle in bed.