A Quiet Darkness

It is a quiet darkness that creeps behind my eyelashes.
It seeps through the membranes and into my bloodstream,
where it is swept down from my brain into my heart
and slowly chokes the oxygen from my lungs.

It pulls the strength from my limbs like cancer,
and damages each nerve as it screams for more stimulation.
It gnaws at my bones and sucks at the marrow of my soul,
until all is dry and cracked and turns to dust.

It is a creature which dwells in the back of my skull,
eyeing the light on the other side with jeering malice.

When I blink, it darts forward. When I breathe, it steals my air.

It shivers in delight with each negative thought I ponder,
and rolls in the muck of my own self-deprecation,
like a dog on the remains of its days-old kill.

It claws at my mind like a cat sharpening its talons,
each stroke against my curtains like a knife through paper.

But, because I know it is there, because I know it lies in wait,
I will not allow it to break entirely free.
I will let it run wild in my mind for a short time,
and then I will corral it once more.

Though its anger will seethe for another while,
and its claws will grow longer as it prowls its cage,
for now, it is just an animal;
just a shadow;
just darkness.