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I am lost.
Something is telling me you are just like me.
We were put in the darkness
To find each other.
Scibile Definition: Something which it is possible to know.
Jessica Colbalt Jul 2014
I'm scared.
I don't know what I fear.
The walls are scaring me,
Like they did last year.

I'm scared.
I just want to know
Why something is still so painful
Though it happened long ago.

I'm scared.
My eyes water, my chest is tight.
You know something's wrong,
When all day long you dread the night.

For truly, I am scared of the dark,
Of it's voices, its talent for decay.
I spend my long long nights,
Praying for the safety of the sun,
And the comfort of the day.
I wrote this about one of those nights, when you can't sleep because you can't stop thinking about something miserable, and it makes you feel genuinely scared and alone in your own bed.
Jessica Colbalt May 2014
I glide through the crowd
Blood rushes to my face
My hands stick with sweat
My lips open and close in prayer
But I am silent.

I stare at a wall
The carpet, a painting, a book,
But my mind will not focus.
Anything to hide the panic.
To hide the fear.

Tears are now a threat.
My panic wants to escape
But I am in public
I am being watched, observed under a microscope, scrutinised.
I must not cry.

It is as though I am
A foreigner in this world.
I want my home, locked doors,
But I do not want solitude.
I wish I were brave.
Jessica Colbalt May 2014
Perhaps it's time
For the stag to stalk the gun
For the driver to be blinded
For the killer to panic.

Perhaps it's time
For my porcelain mask to crack
For the sweet smile to twist itself
For the pain to be revealed.

I have wasted the days.

Only now
As I dwell on the years old
Does my future end.
Only now
Does the stag stalk the gun.

Only now.

I have wasted the days.
  May 2014 Jessica Colbalt
Reagan Kulka
When I was little I was afraid of the dark.
Who knew what was creeping around in the shadows.
But now that I'm older I am not afraid.
Because the darkness took me in
When I was alone
My soul is black
Jessica Colbalt May 2014
"I don't have the time."
The words I muttered when you
Locked your nervous eyes with mine.
They flowed out of me, they came without effort
But to you, each word cut deep, but you're used to being hurt,
By busy minds, fleeting affection
The generation of instant gratification
No one has the time.
Not for you.

— The End —