Today, I looked inside myself. At the darkness left untamed. The darkness I refused to face for too long, and now I’ll pencil it down, in pictures and in words. I’ll put it in black and white, just as is in my mind, and I’ll allow them to take flight. The fight that I put up for my own survival and the death living inside the walls of every hospital room I occupied, how could I not be fascinated by death at night?
To face who I am would be difficult, but what would be useless and a waste would be not looking at all. I am who I am, and I’ve survived as I’ve survived. Now everything goes bump in the night.
Surviving things others never did, managing to find years that others never had, my gratitude takes flight, but it lacks the shine, the light.
There’s something dark about me; there always has been. Life and death in a eternal cycle of turmoil. But at least life and death know where they stand.
And now I’ll allow myself to be who I truly am. Leave if you must. But just remember, there never is a time where I trust. I’ve been betrayed too many times, and I’ve seen too much violence. And in my little sight as a child, I saw far too much tragedy. Something running amuck, I thought I was insane. Perhaps the darkness in me was only to be expected.
But even so, I have found myself internally respected.