Alternate View
It’s always the same.
The darkness.
I don’t care what you think or what you say.
It has sound and it has color. It has life. It has energy.
There is no black void in the darkness. There is no quiet in the darkness.
That’s a lie.
I know because I’ve been there, I still end up there.
Night or day, awake or asleep.
I’ve traveled every avenue of this rank and rancid place.
I’ve been to this violent place.
It’s like an animal ripping and scratching and tearing at me from the inside-out.
And it does. It claws and rips and shreds and devours.
Every single time.
See, it has color. It definitely has sound.
Horrifying, terrifying, pleading sounds.
It screams at me and then echoes back from every crevice.
It has no escape or hiding place.
It always finds me.
It always consumes me and leaves me so tired that I can barely breathe.
I don’t even try to move. I can’t.
I have no life left in me, no fight left in me.
No hope left inside me.
See, it has its own energy. It's own life.
It’s always the same.
The darkness.
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