Sitting in Darkness Under the Full Moon.

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 feel. 

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. 

Photo: Flickr