Darker By The Year Poem by April DOWN

The places in inhabit
Get darker year by year
Soon the sun closes to me
I am left in a vacuum with my fear

It will hold me and direct me
Turn me into a feral being
Where none of myself is seen

Moth bitten curtains close
I lie in the dust with the bugs
I no longer shake them off
I am in the cavities I dug

There is no saviour in such solitary turmoil
I begged, I cried, I screamed
To the backs of others
In myself forever to reside