Fear of Finding

A relationship so confusingly beautiful I hold with the night.
I love the darkness.
Everything cast in shadow, it leaves much to the unknown, dancing silhouettes tease the mind telling tales of what may be. What a wondrous dance those shadows play with the minds of the clever and foolish alike.
For when the darkness comes, it makes things so difficult to see clearly, especially me.
Which is why, at times, I love the night.
Only in darkness can I be myself without the judging eyes glaring, for they can’t look at me wide eyed and staring in the still of the night when darkness masks my actions and hides the unordinary misunderstood cloak I seem to wear so naturally.
The shadows too, misunderstood and happy to be as they are once more in the obscurity of the night, watch me with a look of understanding. They too know what it is like to be judged, to hide themselves from all eyes until all they know is to be hidden.
As I am, in day.
Which is why I love the darkness of night. The promise of nothingness that opens the world to my true self.
Yet as fore mentioned, my relationship with the dear night is confusingly beautiful.
Although it opens my heart up like a stage, it brings with it the treacherous light of the moon.
The moon, how he intimidates me so.
With a light so strong, he illuminates, making it difficult to lose the person I wear in the harshness of day to find the one that I truly anm only in night.
Damn you moon, with your clever gleam.
You pull masks off those who wear nothing beneath them, strip them naked, further still, you strip them to nothing.
Don’t shine on me, pompous adversary, so that you can force me to shed a skin I’ve never seen beneath.
Don’t shine on me to open my eyes to a part of myself I’ve been forever blind to, never searching for, because I’ve not known she was there.
I quake beneath your glow, wretched moon. Don’t do this, don’t strip away my mask to shed light on the person I am not yet, but am supposed to be.
Don’t make me search, don’t search me.
Quivering, I hide in shadows in moments of night when I know the moon sees me.
I love the night. It’s darkness and all it promises, but the moon…
He fills me with fear.
A fear of finding the woman he knows is there beneath the mask I wear and under, further still the skin that wears the mask.
It’s a fear of finding me.


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