It can be overwhelming at first, but the dark isn’t too bad. It is the arms that caress her at night to make sure she doesn’t sleep alone; the gentle touch that wipes the tears away. It is the blanket that makes her feel safe—too familiar that it is impossible not to feel its comfort and warmth.
The dark isn’t too bad. It’s the drowning that is.
It is the current that pulls her in all directions. Lifting her upwards, her feet away from the seabed; the clouds still out of her reach. Sinking down. Making it harder for her to stay afloat.
The dark has become her ocean.
Followed by nothing but silence.
Until the waves send her back to the shore.
But this is okay, staying like this. Her heart hammers against her chest. Her lungs begging for air. She takes a deep breath. Breathing is just as painful as dying.
But this is okay, staying like this. She tries to cover her face with her hand; the sun’s too bright. But she knows too well that the scorching heat on land is unparalleled to the hell that dwells inside her. Allowing herself to smile a little, she lets the sun kiss her cheeks.
This is okay. Even when sometimes she is deep in pain, there are still days like this. Days when she can dip her toes on sand and watch the stars usher the moon. The wind, soft against her skin.
This is okay, staying like this.
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