I am not afraid of the dark.
Nor do I fear the thoughts in my head.

But the bugs.
Aye.
The ******* critters in my brain.

My fear, I’m afraid, is they power they have mustered-
Controlling such thoughts; destroying slumbers when days-light dims.

Like solar paneled viruses that attack at the core of emotion,
Ripping through the Limbic system.
Erasing Memory; Re-circuiting Anxiety.

Taking the wiring from retinal output and re-coding each message.
Hacking the server until ants become Godzilla
And “hello’s” read as “goodbye”.

Twitching fingers and feet that scratch at the skin.
It’s these ******* leeches in my skull that **** my nerves dry
Til I’m hot- **** no, cold.

And the extermination comes:
Sunrise.Coffee.Interaction.

It’s like they live to die by the hour of midnight,
Only to do their time through rummage and destruction.
Hatching eggs in my nails, Chewed away by discomfort.
Growing to new forms by lights out.

Rehearse.
React.
Repeat.

It’s these bugs that I fear;

Fearing the darkness.
Fearing the thoughts inside.

It’s these bugs that I even doubt this ****** piece of work.

Yet these bugs are what created what you now have read,
The over exaggeration now etched on paper.
And it is the small bit of me still left alive at night behind them,
Refusing to see this truth when the extermination has come.

It’s no plead for help; No cry for sympathy.

I am me as you are me-
So please take me as I come.