There is this thing
that comes
in the night.
It grabs a hold
of me
holds tight
won't let me go...
It's cold
hateful
It hates me.
It tells me why.
It tells me how.
I am so afraid.
How can I not be?
When there is nothing but this
thing
in the darkness
in the night
I'm alone
all alone
and cold,
shaking,
cold from the inside out
from the thing that has a hold of me
What is it?
What is it called?
What is it's name?
It doesn't tell me..
It fills me with fear,
terror,
It holds me captive,
I cannot escape.
I am always alone when it comes.
Always helpless against it.
It comes when I least expect it.
When I have almost forgotten,
pushed the memories away
I though I was protected.
I thought it was gone.
Forever.
But,
I was,
wrong.
So,
So,
WRONG.
And then it came.
Alone this time,
after so long, it had lost the power to bring others
It brought the fear,
it brought the ice
the loneliness.
I lay,
curled alone on the bed,
helpless.
Unable to speak,
unable to move,
barely able to breath.
'Why? Why now? Please, please not here. Not now.'
I pleaded, knowing my cries fell on sadistic ears,
that reveled in my pain.
It didn't matter.
I didn't matter.
Nothing mattered.
Just like
All
the times
Before.