I dread day. That is when night haunts me.
Déjà vu, a flash of recognition; was that a recent vivid dream, or perhaps from a week or more before?
Darkened broken moments of sleep.
A toss & turn of all that was, and what soon could be…
Daylight relieves crushing dark.
Still shadows follow, glimpses revealed through lit hours.
Dusk comes too soon.
I dread night. That is when day haunts me.
DO NOT BRING THE NIGHT INTO THE DAY.
A poem in reply.
By Agnes Török
I refuse to bring the night into the day
whatever terrors haunt me there
I shake them off in the morning
leave them in the shower drain
I will not let the past define me
flashbacks undo me
I am already so much further
than a week or more ago
stepping out into
sunshine / rain / snow
does not matter
it is stepping out that does
not what could be
but what is
what will be
what I am now
choosing to live my life to the full
is already having won the war
I linger in the last daylight hours
soak them up through skin
when the terrors come
when the memories return
I will fight them