The Darkscape

In the darkscape, sight is obscured, hearing heightened.
In the darkscape, skin crawls, bones ache.
In the darkscape, anger – the depth-breadth of which there is no explanation – reigns.
In the darkscape, you are always alone.
Others do not see it, this darkscape.
They see occasional shadows, too bright light.
They do not see you, in it.
The darkscape moves.
It follows you, dogs your heels.
It always changes.
It is always familiar.
In the darkscape, you only know that you’ve stumbled from the scabs on your knees.
In the darkscape, voices echo, doubt surrounds.
Criticism abounds.
Fear confounds.
In the darkscape, lifetime pillars – upon which confidence rests – crumble.
In the darkscape, every language is spoken, except yours.
There is beauty, in this darkscape –
But only the terrible kind.


1 comment so far

  1. moosilaneous on

    After a weekend mired in the pettiness of my own darkscape, I found this cathartic.
    Working on not letting it reign or rain on my parade any more…

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