for as long as i can remember, i have always told curious souls that i am afraid of the dark. it has always been my favourite excuse for keeping the yellow light on at night. but telling people that i was afraid of the dark was also a favourite lie of mine. i am not afraid of the dark, you see. actually, i am more likely to bath in moonlight than sunshine; i enjoy the silence of the night and i find comfort in the thought of having the night all by myself. the darkness that surrounds me has never made an attempt to rip off my pale skin

the truth is that i am afraid of unspoken words; i am afraid of the thoughts that enter my mind from the darkest corner of my subconsciousness when i am all swallowed by darkness. i am afraid of facing the fears of mine; afraid of accepting the heart-bursting pain that visits me on lonely nights. conclusively, i am just simply afraid of not being able to find beauty in onyx shattered worlds and my own imagination

it was never the dark

*(k.w)