night time child

i am the moon and the stars and the dark dark purple shroud of night-time, sewn onto blankets like white buttons (button moon). i am the streetlamp outside, streetlamp lamplight bathing everything in the sickly orange glow of hallowe'en colours. i am sweet nightmares, people reaching out to you with claws made out of hard candy and eyes of wine-gums. i am the whispering in the trees outside your bedroom window.
i am not to be defined in simply words. i am the child of the night-time itself. i hold tea parties in graveyards with stuffed animals drinking nothing out of china cups. i want to be pale and interesting but end up strange and ostracized always always always.
i am nothing.
yet i am everything.