You don’t know fear until you’ve walked to the bathroom late at night the floorboards creek as you step step step every open door becomes an abyss leading to the depths of hell you refuse to make eye contact with any mirror for you fear that you’ll see something you don’t want to and you keep your eyes on the prize but the path seems to grow longer the bathroom seems to become farther away so you start picking up speed because you feel breath on the back of your neck and it tingles you have no idea what it could be so you go into a regular jog the bathroom still seems to be a mile away and all of a sudden you start hearing things voices? noises? you’re sure it’s just your mind playing tricks on you but they begin to get closer and soon they show up on your list of ‘things I should be running from’ right below ‘drugs’ and ‘ex girlfriends’ but that’s a different poem, anyways, you’re running now the finish line is in sight you burst through the door, quietly and feel a since of pride ‘I did it!’ you say to yourself ‘I did it! I did it!’ then you do what you originally came to do in the first place I don’t feel it’s necessary to elaborate on that then you say your prayers quietly in the bathroom and begin your journey back