Midnight swirling

It was one of those nights when thoughts swirl malevolently around my bedroom twisting me up in my bed clothes, breathing hotly on my already burning skin due to the sticky summer night. It’s nights like those that bring things to the fore. Things I don't want to see.

Suddenly those dim, shady figures in the background, the ones that I can push away in the light of day and noise of life, come rushing forward, showing me their faces. Up close, in my face, their stale breath twisting up into my nostrils. They no longer whisper, but scream, directly into my ears, their beady eyes stare directly into mine. There’s no turning away. It hurts my ears.

This is the time to face those truths, here, in the dark, sticky night. Alone. There’s no running, I am rooted to the spot. To fall asleep means falling down that hole, into that vivid dream world, the one that can be, at once, freeing and imprisoning. To stay awake means to face those screaming, beady-eyed, swirling creatures.

The chains are so heavy. The lock is huge. The key is lost.