It’s 2 a.m. and you sleep peacefully.
While you dream I stay awake.
I stay in the still of the night watching,
Listening.
I see the demons that walk during the night,
The fleeting glimpses of the tall man,
The one on stilts with the fedora,
The hanging lady by the tree.
I hear their whispers in the soft wind that blows,
Goose bumps trailing my skin with the presence of them all around me.
It is a warm night yet I feel cold.
A sniffle here,
A giggle there,
Voices in the back of my mind.
Am I hallucinating?
Am I crazy?