A/N: I can tell that some people might be confused by some words that I use in this poem so I'll explain one of them. I don't use Onyx in it's literal term, for me "onyx" represents darkness or night (Onyx is a mineral mostly found in the colour black, hence darkness and night)

Onyx

I can feel the sweet onyx

Creeping up as I lay here waiting

Hiding in my sanctuary

Of darkness that sings to me

They are starving inside

Needing more painful words in the silence

The buried demons are slowly writing

The stories of their sadness

Feeding on my pain

They grow stronger everyday

Slowly breaking me down

Until I have nothing left to say

I can’t live without the night

The shadows that devour me willingly

The only time they show themselves

Bringing the darkest hours, freeing me

I’m Afraid of what the tales may tell

Afraid of what might become of me

If consumed by the stories I do not tell

Hidden beneath layers of healing scars

They protect me with fiction

Waiting until their stories can be told

I wait patiently for the onyx

To come and rescue me from the scold

Waiting for the onyx

To tell the stories that should be told