Repressed

As night claws forth from the edge of the horizon,
These ragged eyes pried open knowing not a momemt of rest,
Where no treatmemt given closes the blinds to all consuming thoughts,
Ghosts of memory prancing within the inecitable tide of regression.
Clutching onto the quilted blanket elapsed with a collage of fear,
Dead faces take place of the mass of shadows abounding around my bed,
Decisions made to the unmade desires of a semblence of acceptance,
Anxiety grasps at my throat as the screams become a dull murmer,
This night grows darker as the shadows close in whispering for remitenence.
Tired from the never ending cacophony of demonized instruments,
For all my failures my mind refuses to bury within the crypt of causality,
Awaiting for the first light of day so that the darkness may pass,
Knowing well they will return again as they are my inescapable reality.