Good Thick Darkness

The darkness enfolds me like a cloak,

a good thick winter one

with a deep velvety pile

warm and comforting

matching it’s shape to mine,

the good thick darkness.

It was blue before,

then blue black

turning purple

purple black


the good thick blackness came

the good thick blackness

that I need to wrap me,

the good thick blackness that I like.

And I know that all too soon

it will be broken


first by the harsh, pinpoint lights

of stars

glittery things

pointlessly breaking up my dark

and then 

as the day breaks through

splitting it open 

cutting it


the blue day breaking

like a knife

opening up a wound

ripping through my comfort,

my darkness.

Not thick enough at all.


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