When the dark consumes
Me,
As it does,
It starts out slow.
Tingling in my fingertips,
Trembling knees.
A lost voice,
And stomach knots,
No more lungs.
Please stop.
It doesn't.
Slowly taking over my body,
Making me,
Hate me,
And what I did,
Or what I did not do.
Because the dark is not prejudice,
It punishes for being, and for not being.
And I have been,
And will be,
And the dark shall consume,
Me,
As it does.
