It's dark in here and foggy,
Coherent thoughts caught in a Web of confusion,
Voices echo in an orchestra of white noise,
I can't make sense of who they claim to be they thread nonsense in my mind,
And weave havoc in the fabric of my conscience.
My head feels twice its size and is weighed down by the carnival of horrors in my head,
Round and round a carousel with disembodied music and distorted laughter,
But the horses and carriages are empty,
The chilling laughter claws up my throat and and clings to my tongue before flying through the air and shattered all around me.
The shards cut like fine paper into my skin and draws blood,
Though instead of bright Berry red it oozes black wisps of smoke that swirls around me like a haze,
Everything I see is now tinged with darkness and the taste of air singes my tongue,
No one can see this it is only me.
When I walk passed strangers on the street their glances become piercing sharp pains,
Their voices turn into taunts that mock me,
My limbs are heavy and as I walk slowly I feel my body tighten with tension,
I begin to sink through the floor but I don't scream for help.
Because its eerily quiet,
There are no people or a demonic carousel,
It's dark and its dead,
Its everything I want and need,
And then I realise that what I once thought of as a fear was a comfort,
I close my eyes and drift,
I no longer fear the dark.
