in the dark of this room I find only a single bright light.
I've gotten used to the dark, I can roam without light.
I've learned to find peace in the fear,
fear of the dark.
But what is scary about the absence of light?
The unknown in it.
Can't see the monsters come out of your closet,
under your bed.
in your covers.
Only sense you can trust is feeling,
but think too much and every feeling seems worrisome.
Think too much and you hear sounds through the silence.
Think too much and you're dead.
But how in this darkness,
absence of light,
Do I find my peace?
No worries.
No cares.
No monsters.
Only Myself.
But are the monsters truly in my head?
or are they Real?
The shadow on the wall,
The figure in the hall,
The finger on the trail,
The swaying of a tail.
The claw on my back.
The stinger in my chest.
The fight or flight response of my little beating heart,
beep, beep, beep, beep.
It's like a timer.
A timer for it all the go wrong.
But then the realization.
That was a pile of clothes, a shadow from a lamp, a piece of wood sticking out, a tree in the wind, my imagination, and my necklace.
No monster in the hall,
shadow on the wall,
finger trailing,
tail swiping,
claws digging,
stinger puncturing.
just my mind.
Maybe that's where they are..
Maybe the monsters aren't here,
But in here.
My imagination. playing tricks. scaring me. seeing things.
That's all it is.
Till it's something more..
Real.
Another human perhaps?
or just me.
After all I am my worst Enemy.
YOU ARE READING
Poems of a broken artist
PoesieDifferent poems to work on helping myself and others. Mostly just to try something new. usually going to be sad but I like happy endings.
