The dark.

Just a poem I wrote about a common feeling that comes throughout the day.

The dark.

 

The dark so dark you forget because you haven’t seen the light.

Such stifling darkness that I am immobilized, like a severed head from the body.

The dark is a ghost; a daily ritual among chaos, the darkness is my only order and its wishes my only command. In its light I am but a faithful servant.

I make love in the dark and I do not know to whom I am loving, them or myself.

I scale the corridors with outstretched fingers cautious to prevent myself from undoing anything on the walls. Slowly: step-by-step, hearing only the sound of my heavily beating heart.

         

Author's Note

Feel wonderfully welcome to share any thoughts, and know that I appreciate anything anyone has to say, cheers. Austin

Reviews

[Pretty Faces Split Open]

Nice, love
"I make love in the dark and I do not know to whom I am loving, them or myself."

[MS. BABy]

I enjoyed this piece of work, I have one thing for you..structure can aid in reading and making it easily read you want your reader to not be distracted by anything...
hello Im BABy

[whispereversolightly]

Wow such a deep powerful write, I enjoyed this.