I am no stranger to solitude.

Him and I, we are old friends,

reacquainted as the day draws to an end

once more.

He doesn't take kindly to other people,

so he only makes his appearance when I am

alone.

He is beside me as I lay in the dark

wishing for something better,

someone better

to help me bide time until the sun awakens.

But I haven't always been alone.

There's been instances in which someone had

banished the shadows and made my heart swell;

everything good and pure and light

encaptured me at every moment.

It never lasted long.

When they left, He was always waiting.

 

Waiting for me to break again.

 

So now I lay in bed

wondering if the sun will shine once more

to rid my life of this shadow cloak that He has

thrown around my body.

I can't do it on my own,

the clasp is too tight

and I fear that if I try too hard to pry it off

it might end up too tight around me,

choking me,

rendering me completely defenseless

against the ever-lurking curse of Him.