Dark Places

Where do they come from?

These fears. Anxieties. Doubts.

The ones that manifest inside: tendrils slyly licking away at the edges of our...vitality.

Helplessness.

We reach inside in our times of hardship,

capsizing, surrendering ourselves to familiar feelings.

Of hollowness.

Of biting cold.

Of a void and aching throbs.

But we reach.

Darkness can not fall

and shadows can not seek—

they follow.

- Ilia

Why is it that bearing the brunt of neglect is described as iciness?

Is our selfish need to be cared for so numbing?

Or is it the frosty slap of the winter chill against our wounds,

the ones we nurse for days, in indignant injustice?

Why can't it be like the nightfall,

a redirection of the sun's spotlight,

to alight upon another?

Why is loneliness a chill?

It may be a lack of warmth amidst a ray toasted crowd

but it does not have to be wintry.

Let it be...a moment of peace.

A chance to embrace you and your own.

Why are even emotions so absolute?

I'm not going to pretend I don't frequent that barely lit depth in my mind,

but I believe in the power to walk away from it.

My anger is a puddle, I simply step out

Live in the emotion, savor its existence.

Ultimately, it is still an experience.

And at least, you're feeling.

But choose to let it go.