By standing stone
Deeply inscribed
I place my hand
Upon its side
Feeling something,
Somehow died
Not corporeal
But deep inside.
Emptiness gnawing.
The monster which
Haunted my night
Crept out from depths
Of dark delight
Below the bed
In shadow hides
Today he follows
Close by my side.
Wind blows cold against my skin.
Why did I come
Here where I dread
I force myself
To read the dead
To whip myself
And feel the pain
To live each moment
Once again.
The monster whispers.
“You are nothing,
Never were.”
I face the truth
In what is heard.
For I am nothing
If I dwell
On what is past
And live in hell.
Learning to love the silence 
It is not good to dwell on the past but for some reason for the last two years it feel like I went in to a time machine. I had to relive some not so good memories.. I relate to your poem on some many levels. 👍
LikeLiked by 1 person