darkness becomes me
it's silence and lack of clarity
it's empathy from whispered voices
when the dead come to visit
I sleep only in small doses
my own screams awaken me to moving shadows
and the chill of their presence
dazed knowledge of being touched
which I dismiss when the Sun arrives
yet the darkness becomes me
in a sordid kind of way
I muddle through the vacant day
smiling when I want to plea
for anyone to look and see
that I await the coming night
with urgency to dim the light
like an actor's role he cannot put down
or the painted smile of a dying clown
there is nothing more odd
yet meant to be
a fixture in this darkness
that so becomes me