I sit in the darkness,
wondering if I am broken past repair.
If the shards I see in the world,
are ones I actually make appear.

If it is when I search for more,
it is the darkness I seek out,
little monsters under my bed,
they don't react when I shout.

They are cheeky little buggers,
but they coddle the storm clouds in my heart,
heavy rain and thunder,
they always hold my hand when the lightning start.

I know I should be scared,
but with them I am never afraid,
in the darkness I feel safe,
and this is the bed that I have made.

I don't ask their names,
don't ask where they are from,
I don't care if they are evil,
they are the ones that keep me warm.

So I sit in the darkness,
in company where I heal,
I sit with the demons
who understand how I feel.