It’s an old clichè, but an accurate one. The darkness is all I know now. I’ve known it for so long that I don’t know any different. People come and people go, no one stays. Those that came were anchors, a way for me to find a way out of the darkness, then they got scared and moved on. Leaving me in the darkness again, always in the darkness. My son is a beacon in the darkness, but he is t the way out, I fear he never will be. Not yet anyway, maybe one day. If it’s not too late.
The darkness is all around me, the darkness fights to invade my body, my mind. I can hear it pleading to let me in, and I am weak, I will give in eventually. It’s a fight I can never win, no matter how hard I fight, the darkness is everywhere and it always wins. When the darkness wins its prize of me (and lets be honest here, the darkness eventually wins in the end), I will no longer be surrounded by the darkness, I will be the darkness.