Instinctual fear comes every night.
Fingers of dread that tickle my pulse, clench at my chest, strangle my throat.
Uninvited visitor of shadow and mist.
Sit off of my bosom and give it a rest.
I know your creeping trick, your goading no longer startles me.
Hovering by my bedside, watching while I sleep.
You are biding your time until I am worn.
Waiting patiently to take me along.
I fright now only at what is lost.
Never to be seen, never to know.
So keep your cold dark hands to yourself.
Watch me slumber if you must.
But I’m not going out without a fuss.