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May 2015
The only light in my room is the blue of my skull lantern, red of my lava lamp and flicker of candle. It's hard to explain but it's surprisingly beautiful. The blue is making colors normally left unseen in the daylight pop off of my fuzzy pegasus blanket. The red glitter casting lights around my room like a million little supernovas. The candle is flicking light across my black curtains sweeping through my room pushed by the night winds like the souls of the lost. Will i become on of them? It's raining hard against my open windows and i can smell the damp earth a ****** throw away from where i sit under my luminescent posters and black and white photos depicting people torn and broken finding redemption. Will i ever be one of them? I have the overwhelming need to walk out into the dark blanket of the night, let my bare feet sink into the soft green blades beneath me, these ones wont cut me. I want to walk under the heavy moon resting like a jewel in the fabric of space, I long to wander these 23 acres wading through ankle deep currents, crawl through sharp thorns, run with the deer and howl with the lonely coyote. I want to treat the stars like old friends, tell them my woes and lost loves, my regrets and deepest fears, confide in them my scariest dreams, insecurities, joys, sorrows, loves. I'll beg the universe to put it's faith in me, ask it to recognize my existence because it sure as hell know i recognize its. But I'm not out there wih the rain washing away my fears. I'm lying naked atop a fuzzy blanket feeling the swirls of wind licking the skin of my legs, stoumache and face raising goosebumps like an old lover. Half of me shrouded in cold half warmed by the softness beneath me lulling me to sleep the other is begging me to stay awake, keep observing the world aorund me. I wont give into the warmth. I'll lay here awake ears flooded with the sound of sad guitars and tired voices, looking at the illuminated colors smelling the soft earth and nights perfume, feeling the dark run it's hands over the half of me i give it. Maybe I'll give it the rest of me, I wonder what I'll find? Only now do I feel at home under fluttering feathers of broken dream catchers, next to faceless angels and fantasy heros. They say everyone has a happy place, I finally found mine. In the middle of the night surrounded by pale light while only those who think like me are awake, looking at the same stars begging them for their own forgiveness. This is my place of peace how long will it last until somone finds it and taints it or takes it away like everything else? THis is the only place soft on my brittle bones, tender on my aching muscles. Yhe only place with enough air for my colapsing lungs. The night swoops me up in it's arms twirling me in the moonlight, dipping me in the stars. When I'm with the dark I dont have to confront the empty side of my bed because it fills it. The night is my lover and I'd give anything to stay in it's catastrophically beautiful embrace. The bittersweet dismay is I cant stay. So tonight I'll crawl into the warmth of my bed, drift into a deep sleep and pray to one day be nocturnal and join the night until the ends of my days. When my body gives way to the dust, I hope the night absorbs me, turns me into a shining star for wanderers to pray upon, and welcome me home.
Xander King
Written by
Xander King  21/Non-binary/Oregon
(21/Non-binary/Oregon)   
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