Do Not Be Afraid of the Dark

Do not be afraid of the dark

She looms, but she means no harm

Do not be afraid of the dark

Your enemy is the cold

The stars

The barren nest that welcomes you

Absence overwhelming

Shadows consuming

Do not be afraid of the dark

She was only ever a hostage to evil

Four broken eggshells. One egg missing entirely. Eaten? Either way, Gone. 

Wings, gone. 

Mate, gone. 

Blood on the floor. Blood everywhere. Her underdeveloped young unprotected. vulnerable. Dead. 

Weakness. She was weakness. 

Worthless as well. 

Orchids clutched in trembling hands covered in red cuts, mirrors shattered, her room in disarray. 

Only a few living left. 

They couldn't take care of it all. 

They couldn't possibly take care of the ruins of a once grand now somber castle. 

Even if it wasn't even in ruins.  

Even if it was untouched by the raiders, who only came for one thing. 

Her passion. Her pride. Her joy. 

All of it. Gone. 

Why did she live, when they all died?

Why just her wings, why not her life?

Where was her last child, the missing soul?

Clutching the flowers close to her chest, she tilted her head skyward delicate iron balcony filigree ceiling curling around stars, and soft clouds up above...

A silent prayer, for someone to come. Anyone. Anyone who could end her misery. 

Fingers uncurling, the breeze took the flowers away, her eyes opening again as lanterns, soft like embers, floated upon the sky above. The survivor's mourning. 

House

Your HOUSE is a PRISON

Maybe you don't realize this

Maybe you do

But either way, it is in SHAMBLES. 

You may wonder how many LESIONS in the BEATEN DOWN WALLS are your own, or your CAPTORS. How you came to fear the OUTSIDE just as much as you desire it. 

You wonder when the RATS will stop existing within your HOUSE, those vile, genius things that know just how to torture you. DOUBTS. FEAR. Your SWORN ENEMIES. 

You don't think to wonder how many of them are ILLUSIONS that you've made up in your ALMOST ISOLATION.

Perhaps it is the DUST that gathers upon everything you used to CARE about. Perhaps it is the FEAR of ELECTRIC SHOCK that you expect to come as soon as you take one STEP out onto your own PORCH.

Perhaps it is the COLLAR around your throat that you can't seem to remove, because even if you have the KEY, you can't quite get it to fit into the SMALL LOCK on your own. You just aren't that FLEXIBLE. 

And you, you stand in your DOORWAY. 

Begging, pleading with your TIRED EYES because you don't dare say anything in case the RATS come for you. 

Hoping that SOMEONE, ANYONE, would come in. 

And when they do, you don't know what to do. 

It's CLEAR. They'd rather invite you to THEIR HOUSE but you can't just... LEAVE. 

Or maybe you're just PARANOID.