Fall asleep,

before you fall a p a r t.

is there an art in apart?

because,

they seem to like broken toys.

Projects.

in the A.M.

noise in the dead silence.

leaves crackle by the window,

ghosts of past and present,

linger by the door.

peeping in through the key hole.

insecurities in the wardrobe,

slowing creeping out.

finally.

regrets from under the bed,

crawl out.

like zombies.

horrors play on,

on the pale ceiling,

intensifying with each breath.

mirror laughs,

adding background music,

almost lyrical.

3:00 A.M.

turn aside and away.

replay it all.

rewind.

stop.

play.

p.a.u.s.e.

REPEAT.

until the demons take you away.

to their chamber.

only to return you at 5.

sober and drunk of cheap innocence,

torn at the seams.

ripped at the edges.

perfectly flawed.

they whispered goodnight,

as they tucked me into bed.

kissed my crimson wrists.

"Later, for another night."

echoes in my dreams.