2am is caustic. The darkness and cold eats away at the masks and shields I so casually wear during the daylight hours.
My protections fall away leaving me bare in a world I am woefully unprepared to face alone.
And yet so I remain. Alone.
I can almost hear my heartbeat echoing in the night.
A stark reminder of the emptiness the envelopes my life.
The silence is a lightning bolt against the darkness,
Illuminating for a moment my frail humanity.
Eyes tired of searching hungrily only to find nothing but vacuum,
And then the darkness returns and I find comfort in it.
A victim of Stockholm syndrome, so used to pain that relief stings.
So I climb back into my barbed cocoon,
Hooks tearing at my flesh, I shed red and brine,
Blurred vision looks to the clock, another painful 2 am.
YOU ARE READING
Dark Nights at Noon A Collection of Poetry
PoesieA collection of poems about my struggles with mental health issues. Writing has always been an escape for me and it has exposed me to some of the most wonderful and creative people this generation has to offer. Their words continue to inspire me to...
