86'd from the Abyss

Prose Poetry.

Last night the abyss finally kicked me out, after all these years. It had gotten weary of the hours I’d spend in the dark all alone, honing the haunting gaze I’m not sure can be replicated by anyone. I suppose any entity can get tired of incessant stare-downs that last for hours — especially when they make it to the center, where trespass isn’t often welcome. It’s exhausting. Turns out I had asked too many questions. Figured too many things out. Worn out my welcome. At first I was afraid — refused to accept it. I’d grown far too used to my ways, and was using the darkness as a vice. Even the abyss was like, “My guy, that’s really not any way to live your life.” I could find no reason to disagree. I wondered if we could just call it a break, but it’s probably better if it’s an amicable split — that we really go our separate ways for good. But I’d be lying to myself if I thought for a second that I won’t eventually backslide, or check in every once in a while, just to see how things are going. But for now, I guess I’ll see what the light is all about. I’ve heard good things.