I am up late
Past the witching hour
Where the open window is the moon
the cool breeze, my only sense of reality
There I am
Sitting in black
Eyes wide open
dusty buttons
stomach churning
In constant suspense of the morning chorus
For daytime has more fear to offer than night
The darkness only proves our worries
like demons  
Slowly rising and taking my brain apart with every second
Like a basket grinding against the walls of my heart as it brings the thoughts to safety  
Eroding my lucky mind
As I melt in the dark night  
And one blink later
I'm gone
Not to return for haunted hours