I revel in the dark. It’s when I feel most alive.
Simply myself and the shadows, dancing from one pool of orange sodium vapour glow to another.
Yet I feel like that’s who I am. Perhaps just a piece.
So many pieces that nobody knows.
Do those secrets belong anywhere but inside me?
There’s a beauty in it all. A twisted sort of magic. A haunting tale. And one day it will be. Little bits of eldritch lore woven into a tapestry so finely that none will ever know. Because nobody knows that story. So they must be spun into their own tales.
Breathing in the darkness is such a different dance than walking in the sun.
But I suppose, in the end, we all have our secrets. We all have our darkness.
And our light. Right?