Random Acts of Poetry

Photophobia

Darkness is my sanity.
I am not desperate for light
as he thinks, I am not
counting the moments until
he opens that door and
floods my eyes with
fluorescent dawn.
Here in the seamless pitch,
everything is hidden
from natural eyes
and only my creation exists.
This beautiful world I inhabit
in visions and dreams,
so easily destroyed when
he opens that door and
exposes the ugliness
he has carved into my flesh.
That is the real torture.
The pain of the knife
cannot penetrate my soul.
It is the only the damned
humming of ceiling tubes
shattering the perfect emptiness
that can steal my sanity.

Line Count: 24
The Daily Poem, July 29 2020
Prompt: Write a poem that you could feasibly label as being in the Horror genre.