Something igniting within me
constantly pulls them in,
a solar flare
drawing creatures of the dark
into my body. I am hollow,
skin worn
by the bodies of moths
to shelter themselves
from the darkness. I am a haven
of addiction, hooking
you on my light and drowning
you with my power. I switch
on in a heartbeat
and stay lit, eyes burning
with desire, hands shaking
with sacrifice.
Thistles embedded
in the palms, stabbing me,
clenching my fists into them
to embrace a darkness
I am unable to possess
within. Blood reminders
of what it once felt like
to be afraid and in the dark,
alone.