Midnight always whispers a lonely darkness no forest cry could heal,
     fear dwells on the soul of the forgiving.
Shivers ache down my back with a bitter cold of the Earth against my skin.
Half truths are sanctioned screams of apology,
Misleading further to guard the wound of the weak.
                                      Empty.
Echoes dark and dead play in my ears as I scan the room,
      thunder collapses over the thought and leaves a shadow of apprehension.
Over the shoulder looks to be confused as gawking.
Searching for a sense of security-
                   often misunderstood.
Nonstop checking,
               Constant glances,
                       Never to be surprised.
Hypervigilance fissures itself into every spare second,
            guiding cogitation to cause a false sense of benevolence.