written by: Rose Rayne Rivers
It’s only a shadow.
If that’s what I think, then it must be true. Right? And fear can only win if allowed to take root.
My mind is a continuous loop of introspection as the shapes on the wall continue to dance through the blanket of darkness via the thin crack under the door.
If not for light, would darkness even exist? And where does the irrational fear of twilight originate?
If I close my eyes, the silhouettes will be gone and I will be consumed by the most natural darkness, which will rock me gently into a deep slumber.
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