silver dark

I close all the shades and curtains and still it creeps in the edges and steals across the dark. That moon. You are so full of tears I can't sleep. The writing serves to distract in a little way. The peripheral shadows on the wall started to terrify me, I threw them off onto the floor just now and don't know why. It comes in swells mostly. There is one long corridor in my life and portraits keep changing and changing. When I close my eyes it is better somehow and I am still and calm and I hear my father's singing in my head so clearly my cherie amour, lovely as a summer's day. My name was once Tina and I never believed I was pretty but always thought maybe just maybe I could be beautiful. The house is so quiet. The world is so quiet. I must be very strong to be resisting this urge to scream against this empty selfish fluff of a cheap generation that I hate you and want none of your world. I don't want it and I don't want to open my eyes. On a silver dark night I only want someone to stroke my hair and sing and say they know even if they don't.