The nights are lonely.
The nights are liars.
It tells me everything I’m afraid of. The nighttime tells me I deserve the pain. I deserve the suffering.
It reminds me in my nightmares.
I’m lucky if I go a night without screaming in my sleep, waking at least one person up.
Last night I wasn’t so lucky.
I fear the nights. Closing my eyes. Succumbing to the “peace” that sleep offers.
My worst nightmares are my dreams.
Closing my eyes is only ever an adventure in horror.
Never restful, never still, never safe.
I fucking hate the nights.
They remind me of my days.