Light

Tue, 07/10/2018 - 16:42 -- Nova543

I once had someone who was my flashlight.

She would get me through the night.

I thought I was her flashlight too, I would shine her way through.

Leading her with my own light.

But one night, it was her darkest.

Her, enveloped in darkness.

I guess I wasn't bright enough.

She took a glance at me and put up a facade to look tough.

She let me down and walked into the darkness.

Her path unclear and her steps mindless.

The abyss engulfed her.

In doing so, I dropped her,

Unable to find her again as her light flickered off.

Lost in suffocating dark, I looked in disbelief at my hands.

I was holding my phone that night, my mind in a spinning dance.

They had told me how she'd done it, how she went through with it.

Rope. Ink. Knife.

Then I stood in impending dark, knowing my best friend had given away her life.

I sat on the unseen floor, unsure of where to go.

Sobbing away from prying eyes, unaware of who to go to.

Yet as nights wore on, and the days seemed to delay

I could see something from where I lay.

A light, small and dim, yet able to breakthrough the corruption that surrounded me.

Hesitantly, I approached it, curious of what would come of me.

I found it to be a pen, glowing softly on the black foundation of uncertainty.

I lifted it in my hand, holding it between my fingers

And wrote down the thoughts that in my mind it lingers.

Pen. Ink. Paper.

I come to find later,

That as I continued writing, the light would grow bigger.

I had found poetry.

Though I wrote little and no one would read them,

I would listen to many others and saw beauty.

I was getting bright again.

My best friend had written a note before she had gone.

Her words, short yet full of pain, had sent me reeling.

Now, the same way she had written her hurt, I write my healing.

This poem is about: 
Me
My community
Guide that inspired this poem: 

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