Night-time

It engulfs me.
I try my best to avoid it.
I walk for ages trying to get the last ray of light possible.
Not that I do not enjoy seeing you,
I do.
However, I don't enjoy seeing what surrounds you,
Or shall I say what I don't see.

I'm not scared of it.
No.
I am afraid of what hides within it.
My demons wake, when I try to sleep.
They poke at my soul,
They eat my brain,
And tear my heart apart.
I tug on my hair, and pick up a pen.
My demons cause my insomnia.
So I write, until the sun rises again.