The Door to Darkness

It’s 3 am, and the clouds are roaring

I’m wide awake, and I hate it

I would much rather be asleep, peacefully dreaming

I don’t mind rain, but I’m not a fan of roaring clouds

It’s unsettling, and I’m overthinking again

The backdrop to my haunting thoughts

I think about everything that went wrong

I think about the things that may go wrong

I’m fluent in the language of overthinking

I speak less and let my thoughts consume me

Oh no, it’s spiralling time

Lightning flashes, I don’t like that, not at all

I don’t know whether I’m sad, angry, or hungry

Maybe all three, and a little bit hurt

About life in general

Where is sleep? Nowhere to be found

I don’t have the energy to get up and find something to eat

Windows closed, curtains drawn

But I still don’t feel safe from lightning

When will the clouds stop roaring?

When will sleep come back to me?

I don’t know anymore.

So I open the door to darkness

I know I shouldn’t, but it’s difficult not to

The clouds are roaring.

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