Yes. Midnight is my worst time.
All of my worries. All of my past fears
A bleak future. An even bleaker past.
Everything comes like thin tendrils of cold icy mist
… creeping under my bedroom door
As I lay in darkness. In solitude. Ok. I’m alone.
And that darkness is so thick, like tar
It crawls over me. I feel it. Black. Clammy.
… it chills my bones. It sucks at my soul.
And worries, unspoken, barely acknowledged
Become real. Gain teeth and claws.
I want to scream. But I can’t
And yeah I am weak, I want to cry but I daren’t.
For I cannot show my melting inner weakness
I never will.
Moi? Not me. I’m fine,
This smile is real, isn’t it?
It’s just for you.
Copyright Stan M Rogers. 2018.