Death.
It makes up my dreams.
But don't worry,
It's not as bad as it seems.
It happens every night,
So I'm used to it.
If not death, I see darkness,
I'm used to it.
But when I awake, they haunt me.
Grotesque images flash across the walls of my room.
Making sure, it's the only thing I see.
I should be scared
I should feel anxious.
But after so many years, all I can feel is numbness.
