i am what my monsters see me as;
this bed swallowed my feet.
roars lap at my ears as seconds pass;
insomnia begins to take a seat.

my eyelids are midnight curtains,
that the killer entombs himself within.
Mister Reality behind illusory drapes, uncertain,
a  whimsical gust of wind is all needed for him.

i glued my sullen eyelids to a close,
hoping to escape this quaking ground;
let the sun fall like a petal from a rose,
hope reality will never be found.

avoidance, the path that my trembling feet find,
molded the monsters to shadows within my mind.