When thoughts
Screech in the middle
Of the night.
You should see how
Vulnerable I become.
Washed away by even
The faintest of ideas,
All little and low.
Cornered,
Seeking support.
Daunted by the dark,
Even death hasn't
Turned up for my rescue.
Are you afraid of
The dark too?
If you aren't. Come,
Help me.
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