3a.m.

Darkness fills my eyes and I begin to hear each of the lies.
3 a.m. has made its venture and my fear has provoked paralysis.
I know there lurks a further evil in the desolate room. 
No one around to confide in. No human to understand.

The evil greets me as an old friend. It wears a mask to disguise its identity.
It whispers terrible things. The sound is so loud it makes my ears ring.
It tells me: "You are unworthy. You are unloved. Your existence is reserved for this world. You will rot in the ground and your voice will echo no sound."
It coaxes me with diamonds and jewels, medications to ease the brain, and freedom from the pain.
It's cunning and manipulative. It rejoices in my failures and seethes at my victories. 
I cannot make out its image. Yet, there is a burning in my chest and a rattling in my brain.
It cackles in the corner. I can see it rotting away in despair, feeding off my desperate soul.
It offers no mercy.  It offers no kindness. 

It's 3 a.m. The deceiver creeps back in. It hovers over the twin bed. 
It has come to conquer and coax. What dignity do I have left?
It listens to the subtle heartbeat, pulsating slowly.  
It comes to show me what all my desires and dreams could be. 
It tells me to let go and trust it.
"Don't you see the apple on the highest limb? It can offer you freedom and reconciliation. Your appetite will be satiated."

It tries to drown me. To thrust me into the depths of the ocean. Laughing as I struggle to catch my breath. 
The waves crash over my body, flinging me to and fro. My voice is muffled and silenced by the roar of the ocean.
Salt in my wounds. Water in my lungs. 
It strikes at my heel when I try to run. It makes my skin peel when I resist. What hope do I have?

It's 3 a.m. and the deceiver creaks the door open.
It hovers over the twin bed. It whispers lies in my head, trying to fill me with dread.
I turn around and look at its deformed face. I pity it. It has no power over me.