"i'm sitting on the counter, watching you cook, the smell of strawberries and cream wafts through the room,
i try to distract you, hitting you with my feet,
to which you either glare or give a cheeky grin in response,
i grab your wrist, try to make you turn around but then I don't feel the familiar steady thumping of your pulse,
before i even question it, you're pulling it back and jokingly scolding me.
my gaze nervously shifts towards the door, the door neither of us have ever reached for,
so when you're sound asleep that day, i tiptoe to the neglected door,
i reach for the handle, it doesn't budge, nor creak, it just stands still
that is when i start to question the absence of darkness when i am with you"
-k.v.
