In The Black of Night

Hiding, all that is brutal and strange, inside of me, to
other’s eyes I have no nightmares. In my eyes
I am the nightmare, insecure and scared, I scale the
twilight hours,

to endure emotional paralysis, in my nine to five
where I have chiseled myself in to something recognizable
for society, the depths of my heart cannot be distinguished
in my daylight replica

because my soul has drifted somewhere else, a place
where I cannot see me, but everything else is clear,
there is no fear, no grief, no sorrow, no anguish only
benevolence in the black of night.

-L.J. Lenehan-

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