By Jordan Mitchell
The only trouble with starting,
Is knowing where to begin.
Words don’t often allude me,
But when they do,
They slip through my hands like fine silk.
Leaving behind a trail of blackness
Such that I fear I’ll never return.
I don’t like the dark,
It scares me.
As a child I’d spend my nights
Lying awake, sacred.
So scared, I would shake.
I’d imagine the shadows as beings.
Lurking, stalking, waiting
In the corners of my room, the recesses of my mind.
As the sun begins to set,
And the light fades from existence.
Until it’s just me.
But at last, my salvation,
Just across the hall,
My sanctuary. It calls to me,
And I get up.
But, I have to cross the valley of obscurity.
I look one way, I look the other way,
And I dash.
My bare feet making no sound against the carpet.
I sneak into their room.
And they make space for me in their bed.
Already familiar with our routine.
I cringe with fear as the shadows catch up to me
But they only tell me that it’s time to rest
That I misunderstood them. And they tell me,
That they just wanted to be my friend.
They celebrated at the set of the sun
Because they only exist in the absence of light
Their time with me is limited, as we spend most of our time together asleep.
How misunderstood they are
How misunderstood we allow them to be.
I learned this as I got older
Although I often forget
So, to remember, I made myself this poem.
There is a friend
Who’s never far apart
Sometimes when you need comfort
Call on your friend the dark.