Lying in my warm bed, awake.
The window next to me provides me light.
Can't even face my window and look outside,
The bad people come out at night.
My shaking in sweat hands and fingers,
Clutching my blanket.
My face in my pillow, hidden and buried.
The clock is ticking,
The room so dark and empty,
I'm still so worried, need to tell my
Paranoia, "I've had plenty."
But my mind won't listen.
Somebody is coming to get me.
This paranoia tricks me around.
My heart beats faster than the clock,
Can't breathe,
Can't think,
Of anything real.
Night passes,
Morning is here.
I'm bloodshot, pale, and sick.
You
Have no idea
How at night I freak of the someone out to get me.
And how scared I feel.