I’m Still Afraid of the Dark


I used to fear the dark;
the impenetrable black ribbon of
nothingness between the
barely open
doors of my closet.
(who knows when the
hungry creature therein
might decide it
wants a midnight snack?)

I used to fear silence;
the emptiness that,
seemed lonely and
cold and
lifeless.
(and if I leave it empty,
who knows what it might
be filled with; what it
might become?)

But now I understand
that there are much
worse things than
dark and
quiet.
(after all isn’t dark and
quiet the
best conditions for finding the
sleep I so badly crave?)

I still fear the dark, but
not the kind in my closet. No,
I fear the
twilight of depression
shining in your eyes.
(I can see it there
behind your smile and I
long to kill it and
mutilate the corpse.)

And I still fear silence but,
not like before.
The silence that terrifies me now lives
in those seconds of stillness before you
answer my “good morning” text.
(That’s when the
‘what ifs’ creep in and
wreak havoc on my
already brittle soul.)

I still fear the dark and
I still fear the quiet but
now I fear them as they are, and
not as we
see them with our eyes.

(I fear the deeper darkness,
the more substantial quiet;
the hollow emptiness of
when I almost lost you.)

Please don't ever leave me
alone.

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