I was 13 when I plunged into the darkness
night-lights in this room no longer had a place in it
my mother had told me to "grow up"
but every night I suffocate myself with my blanket
even though it's 11 p.m.
I cover myself whole,
dead afraid of mystical killers lurking around
in the walls of my room when the setting is their colour
but after a while I found out I had demons;
all of us got along well together
and the lightbulb was never replaced for a very long time.

I am now 18, returned after a year and a half in college
there I spent a lot of my nights alone (figuratively) and lonely (literally)
I sleep in the dark comfortably there
the shadows that play around in my room does not scare me
but I came back home a few days ago
everything in my room here and now is foreign
although everything is how they used to be
instead of 11 I now sleep at 3
when the lights are switched off
the walk back to my bed is excruciating, the fear
it's as if I don't trust the darkness in my room anymore.