My Attempt at Poetry

I’m afraid of the dark.

The unknown that lurks within it is what scares me the most. It’s the terror; the screams that are heard but unseen. The hallways that have no doors.

I’m afraid of the dark.

The inability to control my future. The knowledge I simply must pray, and leave my fate in the hands of the starless existence.

I’m afraid of the dark.

Ever since I was a child, I would sit up in my bed and stare at the looming, pitch black room. I could never decide if it was better with my eyes open or closed.

I’m afraid of the dark.

I think too much about it, and find unreal connections. Unforeseen fear and anxiety about unrelated causes, bubble forth and concentrate on this one, cryptic climax.

I’m afraid of the dark.

I lie awake, recalculating every possibility for failure and terror within the inky truth, only to realize that if my fears were to ever be a reality, I would have no preparation or idea of what to do.

I’m afraid of the dark.

As the unlit world encompasses me, I let myself surrender. I allow the unwanted images to tantalize my mind, as long as I can finally fall asleep.

The light blinds me.

It’s morning.