Category : Poems

Sub Category : N/A

By my lonesome self, within this small room, the walls, perhaps, close in on me. 

The window spews cold air from the outside world as the breeze envelops the air. 

My blanket envelops me in the illusion of safety, yet provides sanctuary. 

When I falter to close my eyes, to rest my mind, ease my fatigue, there she is: 

The Darkness

Gazing upon me with her chilling sounds and eerie atmosphere that hugs me much like a mother embraces her child. 

I can hear my heartbeat, but I can also hear hers as well. Her variety of beating hearts.

She is everywhere. 

Travelling along the cold air, dancing on the atmosphere, and making her presence known to me. 

Perhaps, she is, and has always been, trying to speak to me and I have never cared to listen. 

Only to anger her and lead her to watch me be driven mad by my own mind. 

Perhaps, this is her job. 

Being my imaginary friend that is personal to me.