I hate darkness. I hate being sad.
I like sparkly. Glittery. Happy.
But the pretty, shiny things cannot sustain me.
I starve for something for substantial.
Tonight, I sit outside on this cool July evening, in darkness and sadness.
It feels raw.
I take it all in.
I have not tasted the juiciness of summer as much as I have in this single, painful moment.
My sadness slows me down, like a hand telling me to pause.
The almost-ripe full moon glows. Bats soar above me. Grass tickles my leg. Mosquitoes nibble at my skin.
I writhe around, uncomfortably.
I am sad. I hurt. I feel like f*cking shit.
It feels good to say that.
A surge of new energy seeps into me.
I feel alive.
Whole and torn apart at the same time.
I just feel.
No need to let go. No need to feel better. No need to do anything.
I surrender to my tears.
I surrender to darkness; to pain and discomfort.
The moonlight kisses my skin, tenderly.