firefly

oh, firefly. that’s it. that’s who you are. you flew into my night, and i caught you in the cup of my hands, and you gladly stayed. and you shined. you turned my night into dawn. from the start, you’ve brought nothing but light. nothing but warmth. nothing but hope.

light people bring light. dark people bring darkness. but that darkness clings to me like bloodsucking parasite, and sticks to the walls of my heart, shielding any light that your beauty radiates.

i crave darkness. and i’d be lying to myself if i said i didn’t want a twisted dark fantasy, a cruel game of chess that makes my bowels lurch with every move. i crave it, but i hate it. and i’d be lying to myself if i said i like the way it makes me feel. that’s an excuse i make because i’m not ready to deal with what’s been haunting me. i loathe darkness. if i didn’t, i wouldn’t be up writing this in the middle of the night; i’d be curled up between my sheets, entertaining the company of these dark creatures, letting them consume me like they have for the past month. i loathe darkness, and i despise myself for letting it control me. i want to be light. i want to be good. 

i want you to help me get rid of darkness. i want your shine to erase any traces he left, i want you to help me heal, i want you.