The only thing I can see through the darkness is outlines of shapes in the shade and wonder if that is all I am

I stay in the middle of the road curled up and listening to those consistent whispers.

I feel like they are never going to shut up, never going to be silent.

The monsters are restless and overpowering.

A loud moan of delusion comes crashing down on my mind.

I feel that it’s trying to get inside and take me away.

Maybe it already has?

I’m utterly alone in confining myself to this insecure life.

I’m in desolation that has insanity scrawled inside it.

But there’s no where else to write.

Craving insistently for this torture to be over.

I’m daring the devil to fight,

But he doesn’t.

My ears catch every voice that whispers, yet I can’t understand anything that they say.

I stay curled in my fragile state, wishing for a car to come down the lane in which I lay.

There’s no building that is not surrounded by the pitch black darkness of the night.

There’s no opening of sanity to show my mind the way.

There’s no escape, only the pain of which brings reality into my personal norm.

I have nothing else to do but lie and wait.

Quietly rocking in the road, waiting for darkness to fade into the white light of death.

Trying to contain my inverse reality in silence.

I must simply wait…..In hopes that maybe one day the darkness will feel like home.