Maria Midence

The night is here.
It is inexplicably quiet.
Too quiet.
I can finally hear my thoughts.
I ponder on whether I want to listen to them though;
It seems that if I do I am possibly at loss.

I go around in circles;
In an infinite dreary circle.
In a precipice, waiting.
I see myself on the edge.

It is not a roller coaster ride.
It is definitely not.
Roller coasters are supposed to be amusing,
This is just confusing.
It is merely a mosaic;
Of doubts, fears and everything that's near.

Let me shut down my thoughts.
Let me lay to rest.
I can't, I can't.
But I must, I must.
At least for now.
Let tomorrow find itself a different drear.
There is no place for it here.