As I look at you now

As I look at you now, you do not seem to be the same person you once were. Your physical attributes have changed but not by much over the course of the past few years. Your eyes however have seemed to have gotten darker with the light, and the way that you carry yourself throughout the day...it’s definitely something to be wary of. Your body language tells of some tough times that you’ve given up on trying to fix, I do not even begin to wonder what must have had to happen in order to create that shadow cast upon your face.






As you look at yourself now, you see that you do not seem to be the same person that you were. You notice that your physical attributes have not changed that much over the course of the few years that have passed. You see that darkness that has filled your eyes when you look in the mirror, and you sense the weight of the bags that you carry on with you. The defeat written all over the language of your body, shows you that you were the type to give up on trying to fix the situation you were in because things hadn’t been looking good for some time. But the thing that puzzles you most, would be the contrasting shadow cast upon your face.

You notice the way it darkens and bleeds into the light, so precise, almost as if it were the pupil of your eye growing and shrinking. But then you pull back, you reassess, and you take a deep breath, only to try to blink the image away. But you are still seeing it. You are still seeing the way it bled, the way it slowly turned the light into its prey. For some reason, you’re starting to breathe a little heavily and you start to move backwards but you just cannot stop seeing it bleed. You start to become so overwhelmed with the dizziness of your emotions, that you can’t help but acknowledge the truth you tried so hard to bury.

You have a vague sense of falling, but you don’t have the time to pay any mind. You are too busy trying to grasp enough air to shoot the truth out of your lungs, to keep it from puncturing you any longer and letting your life bleed into the airways of your will to live. But there isn’t enough time. You just barely manage to choke out the truth only to have it slammed back into your lungs by the force of the wooden floor against your back. And as you lay there awaiting the finality that will be your sentence you acknowledge the truth. The truth that you were the darkness all along. You were the darkness that was always bleeding onto the light. You were the thing they hated the most. You were the darkness.