An ugly and terrible feeling insidiously violates my being.

It tears away the mask of nonchalance I've built and mocks me for my pretence at detachment. Stripped of the last "beauty" with which I insisted on persisting, I am faced with the monster with which I have always seen in the mirrors.

This grotesque emotion, so tragically a part of my self. I seek to swallow it and smile. Even as a I do so, it seeps from the corners of my mouth, turning my words into a sneer.

I am surely and most positively a human.

I watched as she fell into chaos.
None could approach her in that state.
No control required, she fell into delirium.
And all I could do was watch as who I once knew shattered.

On nights like this, the feeling creeps back.

On a perfectly clear night, it is moonless.
The night is a canvas of black blankness.
It stretches and covers me in it's oppressive emptiness.
Is the moon finally terrified of lighting this darkness?

My eyes wander though I know sight cannot hope to penetrate this night.