Sleepless Nights

Quiet.

The cold warmth of the night seeps in

filling every crack, every hole, every doubt.

It brings tales of hope and ghastly terrors,

gently closing the eyes one by one.

Some dance on, while others awaken

all moving to the sound of the night's song.

Yet here lies a night owl.

Restless.

The night's song is ignored, the routine forgotten

by this little lonely girl.

She lies in bed as the thoughts creep in

like the dark tendrils of an octopus around its prey.

Oh so terrible are these thoughts.

They come, in groups or in pairs

laughing and mocking,

screaming and shouting

Attention seeking.

They pollute the song and her mind

filled with questions and doubts,

joining the uncertain black hole of her heart

They never leave, never quite erased,

despite countless efforts to keep them at bay;

locked chests won't hide them, stories won't stop them

and listening won't kill them.

Until she's drowning in a sea of secrets and doubts,

colors swirl around and moments fly by

questions pester her until she can no longer hold her breath.

The thoughts press in, stepping, squeezing her lungs

No "Excuse me" or "Thank you please"

just thoughts upon thoughts

Suffocating.

The girl's brain thrown into chaos.

No one notices the girl lying on her bed

choking on her words, a sea of her own making.

Everyone just flies by, twirling in the faraway call

of the night's song.