I kneel in the dark, resting my head against my hands as I lean against the bed for support.
Need drew me towards the dark in which I often find comfort, an uncompromising necessity to escape the carnage of emotion drew me to my knees.
Disassociation begins, and slowly, with gravel embedded in my hands, and dirt smudged on my knees, I crawl inside myself.
Nothingness is what I seek.
But to do that, I must search each room and recess of my mind, and turn off each light.
The brightness tortures my eyes.
As I explore each room, I fondly make note of idiosyncrasies.
The way the light creeps through the curtains as if trespassing apologetically, bringing with it a soft, hazy warmth.
The moss creeping surrepticiously along the floor of the room least visited, cobwebs gathering detritus of musings discarded.
The crumbling brickwork spattered with…
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