Friendly Shadows

I hate the night. But I love it at the same time. Laying in bed, the busy road gone quite, crickets outside my window keeping me company. I see things at night. All of my demons come out to play. Sometimes so many they don't all fit in the room. But there's a bit of beauty to it that I don't always see. When the walls come down I'm alone with myself. I can feel everything I don't let myself feel. My sences become amplified. I want to cry. There is no reason for it, that I'm certain of. There is no depression lurking in the shadows of my mind tonight. Anxiety isn't at my throat, threatening to suffocate me. But I feel. I feel hands where they don't belong. But I hear. I hear harsh words being spoken, whispered, screamed into my ears. But I smell. I smell the blue axe body spray he used to wear. But I know. Everything in my head only serves as a reminder. None of it will be repeated. None of it can harm me. I find strength in the night because it reminds me of where I've come from, what I've endured and how much easier life will be from here on out and that's a thought I've never had before. I've always viewed my future to be better, different, but never easier. But it will be. Because my future gets to be what I want. That's it. Nothing else matters. And that's a beautiful thing. The night may haunt me, but it is my friend.