It's hard to outrun the darkness when it comes from within you
When the inky tendrils creep out to caress your cheek, gliding from your brow to your chin,
Leaving a smoky haze in it's wake
Wrack your mind, trying to pick out the details of the smoke, where it begins, where it ends
You know anatomically its structure, from birth to death,
but you've never really seen it, even though you lived it
So in order to survive, you stopped trying to find color in your internal mental abyss.
It's hard to see the darkness when your life is a kaleidoscope of party strobes flashing purple and green
Yet every once in awhile, one of the lights will shine directly into your mind and touch the inky soul
Teasing it.
Taunting it.
Making you turn and face the  empty and once more try to put pieces together
Are you scared little girl?
Does the blackhole frighten you?
No. But a light piercing through this darkness does.