sometimes i speak to the dark

As I talk to the darkness, I feel its heavy touch grazing my skin.

Resting in cold sweat.

When it is around I fear about the fear I'll feel when it's gone.

Each day I miss its cool touch that would hold me.

I remember,
I hid like others hide when we confide in a void.

Oh, how I loved it,
Loved the void that left.

When I would talk to the darkness, my hair would stand off my neck and arms; my eyes occasionally darted, side to side, observing my shadowed surrounding.

 I would talk to the darkness,
as it caresses my skin and plays with my hair.
Whispering to me secrets of laughter, love, anger, and abandonment.
Voices carried through its wind as mine got swept with them.

Where do you go when you leave me?
Where is better than with me?
Will you be back?

When I would talk to the day,
it didn't understand.
It couldn't understand why I'd wait for it to go,
Why I would beg to have back my shade.
the day gave me everything,
 the day gave me life.

But I waited,
I'd still wait.
And it left,
leaving me alone.