It's not the bogeyman.
It's not the dark.
It might be an intruder.
But it isn't the moon.
The night.
Or the end.
Not even the death,
to me or my loved ones.
Why be afraid
of something bound to happen?
A chain links me to my fear.
What is inside vs.
the things holding me back
the demons.
they keep me awake.
Pondering my situation.
It's not the inevitable
challenges life brings.
Or the words banging against
my skull struggling to get out.
It's not my mind and how stable it might be.
Or the scars, not from self harm,
but from knee scrapes and ballgames.
It's not the physical or metal pain all life brings.
I fear the demons at night watching me
the ones inside and the ones out.
Watching, striking in the darkest times.
Telling me things I already know.
Even my poems can't express this fear.
Only the others that understand.
That have the same fear.
The only rational fear there is.
YOU ARE READING
Poems in the dark of night
PoesiaPoems that I can't express to anyone through words spoken, so I put them on paper. Words that explain hardships and times I can't sleep because of these thought roaming through my brain.
