Like, I don't know what's happening. I'm just so tired. Trying to sleep, I just lay here quiet. My mind's raging, it won't slow down, it won't settle. I think I sleep, I just can't be sure though. I'm tired, I'm a tired mess. Sometimes there is no scarier place than our own thoughts. The darkest depths of a moonless midnight of the mind. There is a sickness there, lying beneath it all, lurking in the darkness like a thief in the night. Waiting for the slightest foothold, searching for a leg to stand on, anything it can reach its nasty, boney, decay infested hand up to snag a hold of and latch on to. What is happening, what's going on? There is no one here, there is nothing around, only fear. Fear is my only companion. I can feel it's eyes upon me now. Snarling like a beast at the door. It's hot breathe on the back of my neck, drool dripping from its fangs just waiting to devour me. All I need is the slightest bit of hope. The faintest flicker of light on the horizon, signaling dawn is approaching. But none comes. There is no out running this fear, this sickness, this darkness. No matter how far or how fast I run, I find darkness has already been there and is waiting for me. There is only but one clear choice, I must turn and fight. Yet how do you fight that which is not there? How do you conquer a foe that is but only in your mind?
Do I turn my feeling off again? That is the leg this sickness has found to stand upon. I have allowed myself to feel again. To wonder at possibility of love. NO that is what it wants.Turning off my feelings would destroy me. It is this pounding in my chest, the ringing in my ears that is keeping this darkness from consuming me, yet it is feeding it's ever growing hunger at the same time. This heavy pounding of my heart is like running foot steps of reinforcements cresting the hill, coming to my aid. But it's the signal drum that alls to the sickness to rear it's evil head in the first place. I must hold on until the dawn.