there’s a darkness that dwells
under the sheets that i sleep in,
filling the void with an emptiness.
it reeks of burning ice and rotten dreams
and some nights it threatens to suffocate me.
i won’t dangle my feet off the edge of the bed
and i struggle to walk in my room after the lights flick out
because it's no longer trapped when darkness spills
to every corner and every wall.
a voice in the back of my head urges me to run
yet never fast enough.
for the love of god
don’t give it the chance...
my bed groans in protest,
rocking with momentum
but i am safe
the monster didn’t win tonight
but one night,
it just might
the sunlight keeps it at bay,
i can do anything i want when that illuminating orb hums in the sky.
dripping my soul onto paper,
i watch colors drain from my veins,
disturbing the once milky white of a deceased tree.
words flow like water,
sometimes meager as a stream,
other times with enough force to bring rulers to their knees
and crumble ancient worlds to ruins before my eyes.
it stayed this way for years,
until one night i had had enough.
it'd been a long week
filled with assignments of
cold hard facts
that left no room for argument or imagination
i didn’t have energy to describe how blue sounds
or how happiness tastes
and i definitely didn’t have energy
there was no light in my room to turn off
as i shuffled solemnly to my bed,
face planting into rough sheets.
the darkness matched my mood,
i welcomed its blanketing ambiguity
and just like that,
it was gone.
i didn’t miss it,
not at first at least.
not until the day i stared at a blank page
and only found emptiness inside.
it didn’t matter how many times
i racked my brain
or stood upside down,
no color was found.
it took weeks
the next time i felt it under my bed
i nearly cried in relief.
the things we miss once they're gone.
maybe not it
but what it meant to me.
because all that horror
as long as they're here
as long as it is here
the universe is at my fingertips.
i could not be more grateful
for the being under my bed.
and how strange to think
the monster should be thanked.
but it taught me that
there's beauty in destruction
and serenity in chaos.
one cannot exist without the other,
because for a cure
one must first drink the poison…