At times, it feels my life’s been spent
Crawling through a tunnel, tight and bent
No room to stretch, no breath to spare
Just inch by inch through stifling air
It grips my ribs, it binds my chest,
But still, I crawl, I do my best.
It hurts, it aches, it steals my breath
But forward still, I crawl from death
There is no door, no secret track
No turning ’round, no going back
The only way is straight and true
The only way is pushing through
But I could swear this tunnel has no end
No torch, flare, curve, or bend
Just black on black, and cold like bone
I’ve called this narrow dark my own
Yet what becomes of one like me,
Who’s known the dark so constantly?
What happens when I reach the day,
And light attempts to guide my way?
What will it do to skin grown pale,
To bones that knew the dark so well?
Will sunlight scorch this shadowed flesh,
That’s only known the tunnel’s mesh?
Will open skies just make me blind,
Too much for one so far behind?
This flesh was wrapped in shadow’s arms,
It learned to see in night’s alarms
This skin knows only hush and shade,
Will warmth be more than I can take?
I dream of comfort, of golden air,
But tremble at its blistered glare.
The things I crave, the things I seek,
Are often sharp, and never meek.
To live, to heal, to see things through,
I fear the joy as much as the blue.
For pain and dark are twined in me,
And freedom stings like memory.
The dreams I hold are stitched with fright
Each hope I touch could spark or bite
For even joy can twist and sear
When light itself becomes a fear
