Lady Dra Poet Lyric

THE HUNGER IN THE DARK

The darkness is outside,
waiting for something—
maybe the shadows,
maybe the weak heartbeat
of the flickering lights
as they stutter along the walls.

It presses its face
against the windows,
fogging the glass
like it’s breathing my name.

The cold leaks in
through every crack in the house,
threading through the walls,
curling along the floors,
slipping under the doors
like it owns the place.

I feel it finding me.
Moving slow.
Sure.
Icy hands wrapping around my bones,
pulling tight,
pulling quiet.

It settles in the spaces
where warmth should live—
the soft spots,
the tired spots,
the parts of me I pretend
aren’t hurting.

Tonight the dark feels hungry.
Not loud,
not showy—
just patient.
Like it knows
I don’t have much left
to fight it with.

So I sit here,
breathing in what’s left
of the warm air,
listening to the shadows shift,
feeling winter’s fingers
take their grip,
and I wonder—

Was the cold always outside,
or did it crawl out
from somewhere in me?

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