Circus of the Night

Something
is not
right,

off kilter in a way you can’t quite
discern,
like living in a circus
of the night,
shadows too dark,

too secret,
lights too bright
but in all the wrong places.
Perpetually
uncomfortable,

you whisper your fears into the night,
sure somehow
that speaking them aloud
will give them life.

About this poem

Bad dreams last night. This poem this morning.

You take inspiration wherever it comes.

Tom