Getting Used to Darkness

You rested your head against the mossy tree stump
never minding the ache
as you sprawled upon the wet grass that dampened your dress
and your eyes ate up the stars
your fingers outstretched towards the sky, grasping
the next universe didn’t seem so far away, you could taste it in the air
You left your stump and waltzed to the bank of black water
that reflected the cosmos in ripples and weeds
you didn’t mind the mosquitoes eating you alive
you slipped your shoes off, then your dress and the cold slapped your body the way your mother spanked you as a child
you smiled with nostalgia, and a little pain

You dipped a quivering toe in the bank and you melted right in until you were nearly neck deep
you could touch the hot stars here
stare them in the face
it was hard being young and knowing you could end up there in any moment
hanging in the sky like a paper moon on a string
The cliche sound of crickets interrupted your silence, you wondered if the night could get any blacker and it could
you couldn’t see your hands under light
there was no moon tonight
so you stepped out of the bank refusing to get dressed
letting the winds freeze your blood
you wanted to know all of suffering before the inevitable end
You wanted to get used to the darkness before you died

This poem is about: 
My family
My community
My country
Our world




Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741