Fearful Nights: A Poem

People are Changed by their fears.

I can see them.

They Change into a distorted image of themselves

Into anger.

A person whose father is sick yells at a neighbor

As their eyes become black,

They are blinded.

Into pain.

A person cuts themselves in their bathroom

Their skin becomes that of an apple.

Their blood juice that, when bit into,

Gives them energy to move forwards.

Into hatred.

A person stabs another in the street

As their skin turns red,

Their barbed tail snapping.

Into shadows.

That slowly disappear

Into darkness.

Their screams echo throughout the night.

A cold hand grips my heart as I huddle in my closet,

Jumping at every noise.

I’m waiting.

For myself to Change.

Everyone that I love is already gone.

So why am I still here?

Hearing the shrieks.

The cries of desperation.

The dying wails of those who hadn’t Changed, but

Had been found.

And used.

I’m waiting.

For my own turn.

A searing heat rips through me.

My back arches as a cry is wrenched from my lips.

This is it

My Change.

But the fire sizzles, then dies, not catching.

And I’m still here

Why?

My eyes grew hooded as the realization grows heavy

I didn’t fear death.

Not sickness.

Not poverty.

I was afraid of the disease

That can give me hope to survive

Only to yank it back later.

That can hurt those that I love

And make me a failure.

I was afraid of what lurked inside of

My mind,

The whispers at night

That sing me a lullaby

Full of what ifs

And maybes

And self-deprecating critiques

I was afraid of myself.

______

Fearful Nights by Stephanie Allen is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.
Based on a work at https://medium.com/@fireclaw39/fearful-nights-a-poem-9d6178875c46.