The night comes
I miss the darkness…
Of when I could numb my soul
Against the blinding reality of responsibility.
The darkness beckons…
And I feel the siren call of yearning to be numb
To become as one wrapped and cocooned
In a blanket of contentment.
The darkness touches me…
It taps me on the shoulder to ask “don’t you remember?”
And I answer “all too well”
And hang my head and cry….