The Dark is Calling

By
“The Dark is Calling”
The dark is calling to me; it’s licking at my hands.
It pulls my lashes separate and tugs my hair to strands.
It beckons me to silence; it woos me to the night.
It urges me to turn my back to all of sun and light.
The shadows coat like honey each bare inch of my skin --
I wonder what will happen if I dare to let it in?
It oozes down my legs and it latches to my toes,
And whispers in my ear of all the bright world’s shining woe.
The black abyss is empty of tears and sweat and fun,
But also missing are the lies of smiles from the sun.
I’m standing on the edge of the worst choice of my life,
But wonder if the same is true of what I name “the light.”
The pit below me murmurs tiny drops into my ear
Of poison, telling all the pains I’ll feel if I stay here.
I tilt my head toward the cliff, agreeing silently.
After all, no one will miss a quiet girl like me.
I take a ginger step, one step closer to the fall --
The final step required is the one to end it all.
I hear a thread, a voice! There is a boy who calls my name.
He cries and pleads and begs me to, for a while, remain.
I turn my chin toward the voice; the pit growls quiet rage.
It hisses as I turn around and move to walk away.
The dark peels from my skin and forms a grip around my hand --
It jerks me out into the air and off my lip of land.
I scream as I free fall before the night swallows the sound.
I shut my eyes -- with dark’s sweet kiss, I splatter on the ground.





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