The darkness of the night crowds in

and I’m left alone with grinning spectres

plaguing my twilight hours and my uncomfortable state

of mind, fragile, insistent, running so fast

that smoke billows out and only one idea in a million

sees the dawn and breathes deeply

at surviving

another unseen, obscure dusk.

 

I want to scream, so drawn to the darkness

that envelopes me, that barely a whisper of mortal love

for the shadows and the fog crosses my cracked open mouth

and the declaration of irresistible devotion