i look outside. the darkness of night touching only a fraction of the ground. nineteen lights to many take away the natural all consuming power of the dark. i add one more light, sitting here as i write.
i look in the mirror. the faint yellow light seeping through the window illuminates half of my face. making only a faint outline of my features visible. the person i see in the mirror is a reflection of mylelfs. a face, concived in darkness. enough detail to know, but not enough to see past the possible horror of the unkown. half of my face invisible, with what i can see, apearing demon like. i stare into the hollow dark holes that are a reflection of my eyes, i see nothing but darkness.
i know what i look like in the light. though, so much of what i know, concealed in the dark, the reflection my own face frightens me. it is only me, looking back through the mirror.
an image of a person, defined by the dark. why not be scared of the face that stares back? the darkness in my eyes soulless, staring back at me. these dark eyes are mine, and i know the look my reflection give me. a look of murderous hatred. eyes of a person who has tried to kill me.
who has taken control
who had tortured me
who has hurt me
who has scarred me, until my body both metaphorically and literally are covered with reminders of his power
he is me
a dark reflection of the person i can be.
i want to say he is not me, but i would lie to myself. it is a reminder of what darkness can do to me, if i let it take control.
i turn on the lights. and now, the darkness retreats. now i see my face, illuminated, alive. eyes with a soul, loving. he is me.
but the lights can only stay on for so long.
the sun will always rise when the night is darkest.
i look in the mirror. the faint yellow light seeping through the window illuminates half of my face. making only a faint outline of my features visible. the person i see in the mirror is a reflection of mylelfs. a face, concived in darkness. enough detail to know, but not enough to see past the possible horror of the unkown. half of my face invisible, with what i can see, apearing demon like. i stare into the hollow dark holes that are a reflection of my eyes, i see nothing but darkness.
i know what i look like in the light. though, so much of what i know, concealed in the dark, the reflection my own face frightens me. it is only me, looking back through the mirror.
an image of a person, defined by the dark. why not be scared of the face that stares back? the darkness in my eyes soulless, staring back at me. these dark eyes are mine, and i know the look my reflection give me. a look of murderous hatred. eyes of a person who has tried to kill me.
who has taken control
who had tortured me
who has hurt me
who has scarred me, until my body both metaphorically and literally are covered with reminders of his power
he is me
a dark reflection of the person i can be.
i want to say he is not me, but i would lie to myself. it is a reminder of what darkness can do to me, if i let it take control.
i turn on the lights. and now, the darkness retreats. now i see my face, illuminated, alive. eyes with a soul, loving. he is me.
but the lights can only stay on for so long.
the sun will always rise when the night is darkest.
