I have a darkness in me, they say.
I have a darkness in me, but not dark like the quiet stillness of night and its lilting call to slumber, to rest, or the inky center of the windows to the soul.
I have a darkness in me, but it is nothing like the darkness of the deepest trench in the ocean, frozen pitch, or the inside of a kiss, a real one.
Have you ever had one?
I have a darkness in me, they say, but it is not the darkness of ebony skin, rich and velvet and warm, glowing, or a strong cup of black coffee, steaming hot.
I have a darkness in me, I know, but it is mine to love, and I do, without expectation.
Besides, why should anyone else consider its validity or mystique, when it is far, far easier to fear?
About the Creator
vanessa araico
I write a good bit .
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