without me, i am nothing
with me, i have nothing
give and give and give
you get dust on the counter tops
take and take and take
you get fingertips gripping porcelain
shh, we mustn't wake the children
quiet, they mustn't meet the darkness
but they hear, they always hear
at the cracks of doors,
in the shadows of the midnight gloom
hello darkness, i've been waiting for you
mother tells me not to speak to strangers
but you and i know each other well
darkness, my love, tell me i am nothing
darkness, my friend, tell me i am a part of you
darkness, my dear, tell me it all disappears
YOU ARE READING
rage and recovery
Short Storya testament to the rocky road between rage and recovery and the thought that the two might not be so different after all
