The Unearthing of Words as the World Falls Still

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This is the night. We all have no choice, but to live it, breathe it, and attempt to survive or sleep through it. It is my greatest fear. It is in no way the dark. The dark is soothing, as the outside world quiets. It’s the very lack of noise and busywork that speak to the unrest of my soul. Am I tired? God, yes. Am I quiet? Never. My thoughts are the most untamed flow of the spirit I am built of. I never quiet. I never stop. I never rest my head, without my head controlling those blackened hours. It is darkness, and its need for quiet, with me standing in a realm that seems to be so surely alone.

I fill this time with nonsense, awaiting for my fingers to meet the keyboard and write the way that they crave. Fire burns within me, and I can feel it through the shadows that cover my eyes. I awaken myself as the day is breaking, no need for the alarm. My entire body aches for the ability to form those words, and it builds again with the sun. The juggling act follows, throughout the day. But, the inevitable night will glance around the corner to beckon me at its end. The night will never stop calling, and my words will never cease to answer the inevitable call. For, I need the dark…and the dark needs me.

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