The darkness it cocoons me. 

Early to bed, early to rise in the darkness of an infinate sky. Silence accompanies me from the shadows engulfed in the echos of lonesome foot steps, intrepid indignation of the souless tip toeing through dreams collecting their jar of essence. The empty echo of existence cocoons me in comfort, alone as the universe continues ticking by my reflection is lost in the mottled skies.  The blind become the seers as the seers fall blind, the conscience offers tickets to a map of my mind, front page refusal for the story they would find. And so the night becomes recluse and i fall from the stars shadow fingers  claw my skin opening old scars. And darkness it becomes me seeping through the pores, begging that I dance with it, just once more. 
Karen Hayward ©2017

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