I wrote this specifically for a contest about phobias. I have learned to live with my fear of the dark but spent many years cowering in fear of the things that go BUMP in the night.
Noctiphobia
I listen, certain that I am not alone as
my imagination plays tricks on my mind.
That noise! I listen closely now to be sure;
my mind plays it over again, then rewinds.
The sheets I pull tightly over me but they
provide little comfort from the waning light.
My thoughts start racing endlessly
to the coming of another night.
That noise, I’m certain it’s meant for me --
a spirit from another place.
The dark, each night, has been haunting me;
my heart skips, then it begins to race.
My closed eyes play an endless reel of hell
of the horrors that may just unfold.
My mind toys with the evil that lurks within
a dark night with its stories untold.
So helpless, I lay as still as I can
and pray for dawns early light.
To awaken again to another new day and
have made it unscathed through the night.
I didn't always have a fear of the dark. It seemed to just build and then one night, my loving sis decided to put this sticky, fuzzy toy on the wall next to my bed and when I woke up in the middle of the night...I caught site of it in the moonlight and screamed, thinking it was a huge spider or something that was going to attack me. I was too paralyzed to get out of bed to turn the light on and my sister was sound asleep despite my shrieking so I sat there staring at it to see if it would move. I must have watched that thing all night waiting for daylight so I could see just what it was that was going to eat me if I moved. When I found out what it was, I felt foolish and Tania thought it was the funniest thing in the world. Ever since then, I seem to be more sensitive to not being able to see the things that might go bump in the night and I'm hoping I portrayed this in my Poem. Enjoy!
My Review
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Yeah, I know what you mean. I've been afraid of the dark ever since I was a kid. I'm certain that the shapes that my overactive imagination created out of moonlit silhouetted lumps of clothing, piled in my darkened bedroom, are what first prompted me to write horror stories. Even to this day I feel the need to slide deep under my covers for fear of that Rotting-Living-Dead-Thing, which surely lurks just outside my door.
I liked your poetry. I've read a couple of your pieces, and they seem to hold a playful mood about them. Some poets would say that poesy should be strictly for purposes of the analysis of one's emotions. Poppycock, say I! Good poetry is whatever happens to be on your mind at the time of the writing, and if you dissect and edit it too much then you lose the spirit's intent. Nothing, but nothing, can piss off a muse more than when you, the mere and mortal writer, may have the audacity to edit Her words. So, don't be concerned over what other people think. Not yet, anyway. If you're still a young poet the most important things to do is to take dictation from your muse, and make every attempt not to irritate Her.
Fear of the dark...I had that when I was younger, the night was always the time the house would make noises that would not be heard any other time of day.lol
A great piece.
yes you have a lot of style and rythm,i like your words,i should think you do tackle more deep and complex subjects ,i think you will do great as this one
Yeah, I know what you mean. I've been afraid of the dark ever since I was a kid. I'm certain that the shapes that my overactive imagination created out of moonlit silhouetted lumps of clothing, piled in my darkened bedroom, are what first prompted me to write horror stories. Even to this day I feel the need to slide deep under my covers for fear of that Rotting-Living-Dead-Thing, which surely lurks just outside my door.
I liked your poetry. I've read a couple of your pieces, and they seem to hold a playful mood about them. Some poets would say that poesy should be strictly for purposes of the analysis of one's emotions. Poppycock, say I! Good poetry is whatever happens to be on your mind at the time of the writing, and if you dissect and edit it too much then you lose the spirit's intent. Nothing, but nothing, can piss off a muse more than when you, the mere and mortal writer, may have the audacity to edit Her words. So, don't be concerned over what other people think. Not yet, anyway. If you're still a young poet the most important things to do is to take dictation from your muse, and make every attempt not to irritate Her.
Wow, you really are afraid of the dark. I think everyone has a little bit of this fear in them.
I thought your poem was very good, and it was easy to read. The flow was simple for a reader to follow. I am most impressed by writing that evokes an emotion, and you were successful in describing your emotions about your phobia.
I hope to read more of your writing in the future, and I wish you luck in the contest. Thank you for sharing your writing with all of us.