It’s all darkness.
I can’t see beyond the darkness.
It’s a charcoal cloak enveloping me
In the middle of summer.

All I can smell is the clean summer air
And I am angry.
I can smell it, but I can’t see it.
And I can’t feel it.

I sit in the anger
Because it is all I can feel.
Sadness will come when the anger leaves.
So I sit in the anger.

Night descends
But the smell is still there
And I cannot detect the change.
I feel sadness in the anger.

The fight leaves my body.
The anger is gone.
But so is the will, the life, the smell.
I close my eyes.

And now I can float.
I float in the darkness.
I feel the arms of abandon enfold me.
I let it suck me in.

We became friends.
Years ago, the darkness and I.
Comfort in the harshness of grief and sharpness of pain.
I don’t have to be.

I hear them calling.
Through the darkness, through the cloak.
They call themselves life, and I shut my eyes and sleep.
Sweet obliterating sleep.