Most nights,
I sit in the silence of my room
and ponder if I'll ever be able to fall asleep again.
Occasionally, I get to rest for a few hours,
to finally relax and feel calm,
but that only happens on good days.
Today is not a good day.

Soon, anxiety settles in.
The stillness of this room suggests that
I am not the only one here.
I maintain my wakefulness,
vigilantly watching out for any movement.
Tension grows between me and this unknown something.
We stare back at each other,
daring each other to move.
No one does, not for a long time.

Eventually, my drowsiness rids of any
unnerving thoughts of a second presence.
I turn to my phone,
hoping to occupy myself for a while.
It might even make me tired enough to fall asleep.

Writer's Statement: ​These poems are written expressions of all the things I never talk about with anyone. Talking about them isn't necessary though, because the looks on their faces after they've read it assures me that I've left some type of impact on them. All I want is to spread that impact.