bad nights

my bad nights are not like other peoples bad nights

my bad nights are full of staring at the ceiling in the dim light of my computer, wondering, thinking

my bad nights are strange urges to take running catapults off rooftops just to see if maybe, maybe i could fly

my bad nights are scary and i wander around the house because its dark and silent and im alone and no one can hear or see anything i have to say

because if they did there would be nothing left of me hidden and i would be completely naked and open and my shield would be broken

my bad nights are good nights gone rough

my bad nights are fear and selfishness and anger all rolled up into one package with a big red bow and sat in the middle of my throat and blocking my esophagus so i cant breathe i cant move

i can just sit there

and wallow in my mind

wade through swamps of loathing and forests of pillars of fear and anxiety

and sit

and think

and sit and think and sit and think and sit and think

until i cant think any longer and i try to sleep but sleep wont come so i keep sitting and i keep thinking and the package in my throat hurts so bad but it wont leave and i cant cough it up

or swallow it down so

it stays

my throat is permanently clogged

so when my friends ask if im okay all i can squeak out is "im fine" and if they doubt me all i can tell them is "im fine im fine im fine im fine"

im fine

my bad nights are not like other peoples bad nights

my bad nights haunt me like a ghost

a ghost only i can see a ghost only i can feel a ghost

that is mine

a ghost that haunts me and only me and no one but me

and i am afraid, deathly afraid that i can no longer tell where the ghost ends and reality begins