starkmadd

I feel it falling around me, shrowding me, culling me. I feel it's cool touch, moist as a morning dew. I know it's essence, as I know my own. I know that the darkness has fallen. It is heavy, yet has no form. It is shadow, but allows me to see clearly. It is a part of me that I do not adore. It is my "other side". It is that wich urges me to push away, to become more solitary. To regress into the walls built high by dissapointment. It is my anchor, harboring me from the storm, yet allowing me not to grow and move beyond. It is my shelter, yet it is my storm.