2 AM

It's early.

The moon is barely peeking through the faded, black curtains like a bat after sundown. My crunched up dreams lie on the ground in the form of crumpled paper and broken pencils as I try to grip my thoughts like a spider web would a fly. Bricks fell from my eyes, smashing my feet, but leaving no pain. Just the damp feeling of worthlessness.

The dark space underneath my bed beckons for my small feet to be swung over its surface. Maybe the demons should drag me to their underworld. Maybe that’s where I belong.