Sometimes I think I have become too comfortable with sadness.
I wear it around my shoulders like a winter coat, to keep me warm.
How is it that sorrow has become my comfort, my home?
I am afraid to move forward.
I am afraid to venture into the uncharted territory that is happiness.
Contentment is just within reach.
If I stretched my fingers far enough, I could grasp it and pull it close.
Instead I cling to my darkness,because it is familiar to me.
Why am I so afraid of the light?