The Night
The night is cold, even the sky is weeping out of misery. I slip my toes out of my blanket again so cold, everything I touch sends chills to my body and I become numb. The ceiling seems like a blank canvas, I wonder if it’s staring back at me too. Will I be able to make a portrait of myself, from my memories so faded? Or will it seem like the feelings and faces of whom I have no more traces? The cosmos seem to have left my side a long time ago, leaving me in this pit of self-pity from which I have no way to return from. I have lost track of the time, yet remember the ticks of the clock though I have been screaming in silence yet seem to be crying out loud. I wonder if someone would be able to hear me wail for help, whilst I can’t even manage to speak up. The footsteps are loud, sounds like an approaching crowd but, no one ever knocks on my door as if I ain't someone to go for. While I feel lonely all the way again I do question myself sometimes, “Do I really need someone to ...