Although this is not a political poem, I offer it in the context of the American elections which were held November 3, 2026. Belief is a powerful thing.
It is dark.
I am alone.
There are monsters
I cannot see.
They swim this
inky blackness,
this sea born in my
imagination,
made real by that
same power.
I daytime-know
this room, these
rooms. There's
nothing here.
My mind knows
this to be fact.
I also know this:
I feel grasping hands
reaching for me.
They're bigger.
They're faster.
I know this
beyond thought.
I run toward light,
but behind me,
it is dark.
And I am alone.
