I have always been afraid of the dark.
Once night falls, I start to panic.
I seek refuge in my writing,
Shielding myself from the darkness
that resides within the walls.

I have always done my best
to preserve myself.
I build walls around my heart
And brain to keep others out.
But, lately, all the walls have done
Is keep the darkness in.

Now, alone within the walls,
With nobody to help me stay sane
Through the night, the darkness
Eats away at me.
All I can do, is try to hide in fear
As the darkness finds me.
Consumes me.

I’m still afraid of the dark. I’m scared of being alone somewhere with no light. I’m scared of hearing a sound I cannot see. But I’m not afraid of the metaphorical dark anymore. I’ve learned how to light a path and make it through.

I’m sitting here rereading all these poems and wondering if it would even be worth my time to post them since most of what I see how is just how angsty and alone I felt when I wrote them. If you’re gonna come along for the ride as I move forward and continue evolving, you deserve to see where I came from.

Let’s leave the angst together.