“Who goes there?“
Said I into the black.
No reply, except the echo back,
Except the echo that,
Bounced through the walls
Of the cluttered hall,
Giving way to pause, as my heart stalls.

Fear is that which we think we know
But never feel,
Not like fear I feel in here,
This bleak house,
With its promise and faint hearted lies,
I flip on the lights, at terrors height

Alone, I’ve always been alone. I lay back down
To sleep within this broken home
This thick skull of mine, this hole that I live in
Go back to sleep, back to the drink and screens,
Back to sleep I don’t want to see.
I don’t want to think.