The house is empty. I’m on the bed; legs covered in blanket.
As clouds hid the sun. I switched on the lights for rescue.
They think i’m scared of dark.
Which i’m not.
I’m scared of things they whisper, and murmur when the lights goes down. The Brutal. Violent. Things, they make me do to me.
Image source : pinterest
© Akhil Sreedhar | Quill revolution