It’s Almost Five and the Sun Still Isn’t Up

It's almost

five,

and the sun

still isn't

up.

All the lights

are off,

everyone who isn't

here is still

asleep.

We stay up

in our

bed.

The shadows

whisper.

We can't hear

what they're

saying,

but they're

saying something

to us.

We can feel

them watching.

Waiting.

Waiting for

a response

they know we'll never

give.

Still, they

wait.

Satisfied.

Satisfied with the

fear they fill

our soul

with.

We can't do

anything.

That's the best part.

All we

can do is wait.

Wait to overflow.

Wait to explode.

To burst.

The shadows,

they wait, too.