You roll around like a good old friend
Comfortable on that side of the bed.
The walls are playing with the thoughts in my head,
“1,2,3, replay the memories,” you say.
I want to yell, “go away!”
But my tongue is caught in my throat.
“Are you afraid of the dark?” I am asked.
How do I reply without staining the sheets?
“Nothing good happens at night.”
Shadows come out to dance
You lose your sight
The silence becomes louder so your thoughts wander.
“Go to bed,” I whisper.
Insomnia is not fun when you are afraid of the dark.
It’s a fight I have to put up with every night.
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