Morning...
How i’ve missed it. Every night is a wretched terror for me... but morning. Oh ye fine Gods how I love it. No fear about the night, no sweating and burning for fear of sleep, just a beautiful light in the sky and a sense of peace. No tenseness, no scratching no shifting in confusion and fear. No crying in the dark too afraid to try to sleep for fear of the return of something vile and frightening.
I’ve never been a fan of the night. I respect it, I watch it, I walk it. But I will never be happy with it. I shift in it back and forth through the shadows knowing that I do not belong there. Even in places I have lived for my whole life my body chills over as I walk through darkness, with the unnerving sense that something else is out there even if I know that I should be alone.
Even the band of grass at my farm, so often fused with light from torch or the house, that breaks off into darkness twenty meters off. I watch it and I know I shall not walk beyond where that light touches. I see my dogs bounding swiftly in and out, carroling to each other as they weave their way in the shadows and I do not follow. I cannot follow. Oh morning light... I do miss thee.
I’ve never been a fan of the night. I respect it, I watch it, I walk it. But I will never be happy with it. I shift in it back and forth through the shadows knowing that I do not belong there. Even in places I have lived for my whole life my body chills over as I walk through darkness, with the unnerving sense that something else is out there even if I know that I should be alone.
Even the band of grass at my farm, so often fused with light from torch or the house, that breaks off into darkness twenty meters off. I watch it and I know I shall not walk beyond where that light touches. I see my dogs bounding swiftly in and out, carroling to each other as they weave their way in the shadows and I do not follow. I cannot follow. Oh morning light... I do miss thee.