Sunborn Hopeless

Kagoatweed’s rant: R&R, and be inspired, but PLEASE don’t steal ideas! (And feel free to check out my other stories too! Not all are QUITE this abstract.) ;)

There’s something grasping at me, pulling from the inside. Little claws scrape at my vulnerability and razor-like teeth gnaw at my hopelessness. I screech and howl, whimper and moan, but still there is pain. Unidentifiable reasoning is what churns my guts, and blinds my eyes. There is a darkness in this room and I can’t manage to find a light.

But wait. A pinprick of light? Off to my right side, a beacon, a warmth in this icy tomb. I extend my hand only to realize that to feel the warmth of this little pleasure on my hand is to block it from the rest of me. A pointless excursion, I let my hand fall back to its resting place.

Much time passes in this shadow. I adjust to this dark, fall in love with this pain. The lone light is not a comfort but a burden. The knowledge that there is something more becomes something I am ashamed of, something weightless, yet heavy on my shoulders. I am covered in tiny burns, for the light has intensified and brightened and where it shines on me, my skin boils. For no other reason than to stop the burn, I face the light and use the beasts tearing in me to tear at that hole.

It widens. It spreads. It becomes a sun and I forget the dark star behind me. The warmth from this luminance is overwhelming, but wonderfully reassuring. The creatures inside me wilt and I bloom.

The sun envelops me and there is no place on my being, nor in my heart for shadow. Despite that, sometimes I still feel chills, sometimes I still feel cold fingers down my spine. I hope and pray that if I refuse to ignore it, they will eventually cease to exist, but that is just a lonely hope. Time will tell me if the newborn sun will last long enough to drive the last of the shadows from me, but time is something I have.