Member-only story
Dark Nights, Even By Day
A poem of balance
The cloud cover comes
You succumb
Dark nights, even by day
Surrender or fight?
You bleed out either way
A lingering past
Demons and sprites
Gods and masks
You writhe despite your might
The past, the past
Dead and dying on the vine
At long, hard-won last
Your life is ever thine
The past is a sneaky snake. It creeps up on you the moment you hop off your unicorn.
Maybe it’s just me…nah, I don’t think so — it can’t be.
Still, there she stands. A devil in a red dress. A featherlight fairy whispering in your ear.
Your old self, dark self, feeding you lies about who you are and why you’re bound to fail.
You can’t run because she lives inside of you. She is you — or at least a version that appears when you feel vulnerable.
When change shows up to reveal a new layer of yourself, the temptation to stay the same is significant.
