there is a particular time
displayed on the digital clock
with the bright fluorescent green numbers,
when fear strikes in to my core.
the time is specifically 1 AM.
as the numbers change,
my fear grows incredibly stronger,
and more demons than I can count
come out to play.
they whisper to me about the future,
even though I can't picture one.
they taunt me about all the tomorrows
that I will never enjoy.
I stare wide eyed at the white painted ceiling,
studying it with a perplexed fascination.
wondering how does time go on,
when you can't even remember your yesterdays?
YOU ARE READING
jumbled thoughts.
Poetrysometimes you need to bleed out words to feel okay. sometimes those bled words take the shape of a poem.
