It is dark down here.

Down where there aren’t many people

the shadows swirl into fearsome shapes and sinister forms;

like the smoke rising from a extinguished candle.

Extingushed, like what you have done to me.

 Many here are like that, it is why there is rarely even the faintest of light--

or so people believe.

They say there is no light.

There is no life. 

That when you hit the bottom from your free falling,

you are broken;

shattered like glass and incapable of repair;

a hopeless case.

scattered across the cold hard ground

You are broken.

and yes

The people down here have cracks and wounds from touching the ground

but through these cracks seeps a light

unlike which the world has ever seen.

It is not the artificial light bulbs passed out day after day 

because that has a short life and matters little.

Much like the words of dark you gave to me. 

There is no light when light is everywhere and there are no shadows to contrast it 

No.

This light seeps from the imperfections and cracks and fills this space with unimaginably beautiful glow; soft and warm.

People who have never lived down here, at the bottom as I have, will never see it;

This light that creates an umbrella that shields people from the garbage thrown at them from the top.

It can be bottled and given away; kept in jars and treasured by those who have recieved so little from above;

passed around again and again.

It reassembles those who have shattered and fills them with life as the light flows from these scars

making waves like an ocean, vibrant and thriving in the waves of the dark.

It’s dark down here,

on the bottom.

But that’s only because from those from above can only see the filth and lies

from their whispers and mockery have created a film of shadow.

We on the bottom are thriving in our own curious ways

but those who refuse to look harder will never know. 

You too shall never understand 

and will never see the coral reef like movement 

of this bright light that we produce.

Because you believe in sulking and assume I take up after you and your ideas like a child.

Well, I've grown, thislight has revived me.

This light of geniune kidness

that we are picked up and suspended in 

so we never fall again.

And if we do,

we have a safety net crafted by those who have been there and understand, even if it that is only ourselves;

down here, on the bottom

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on the bottom