there is a difference
in the texture of the light tonight
stale and slightly bitter
I am too tired
to see beyond the circular
prison of lamplight
into the shadows
the fear of darkness
lurks like a childhood spectre
long forgotten
I am beginning to understand
I must turn the light off
oooh, you had me at ‘texture of the light’. I could conceivably post this over my bed, because it’s so typical of me. ha!
yay! glad you liked it. :]
[...] wonder if the worms know inner gypsy turn the light off My God playing a haiku late [...]