When day becomes night  

The day is bright

but I’m sitting on the couch shaking with tears.

Last night has followed me into the morning

carrying fear and darkness.

Entrapped by fear

I remember calling out in desperation,

waking myself.

I rolled over, away from the terror

but too scared to sleep,

to re-join the dreams

of people, places and

dark days.

I held out as long as I could, heavy lids

succumbing to the night.

The terror returned without a blink of hesitation.

And now, though there is brightness in the day,

all I feel is dread.

I know the night

has followed me

into the day

with its prickly blanket

of fear and darkness.

By Bernie Anderson

This is a writing post

When day becomes night  

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