It must be nights edge that gives me this sharpened pain. Counting down the minutes until rays shine through the curtains that have served as my protectant from the dark eerie that lurks. Until now the thoughts have stayed at bay uncertain if my psyche is capable of being penetrated. How would I go about if these silent terrors became the slightest bit audible? I reach for the closest tangible figure which seems to grace the tips of my fingers. Just for a moment the object of affection gave a sense that I could actually do something. Anything real. Focus wonders from the object to my hand itself. Long and narrow with a weakened grasp it lets me down. Never imagined sliding away into my only desire would take this much effort. Hearing the echo of the empty bottle hit the floor I am reassured. Warmth within a few blinks taunts me. Each one drawn out. Breath heavy too heavy. A lazy smirk followed by a sigh of relief.