dark inside

Hai mai combattuto per me? Mangiando odio e sputando oro?
Hai mai capito quello che ho sacrificato
pur di non vedere il pianto del tuo viso?
Hai mai provato a soffocare la tua stessa vita per non amare?
Alzare il culo ogni giorno senza poter sognare? Cantare? Volare?
Ma solo precipitare.
Hai mai combattuto per me?
—  The darkness inside my heart
6:01pm PST - Black Love

Have I forgotten the feeling of dark matter, thrusting deep inside of my most intimate spaces?

Traces and remnants of our love pepper our memories,

Vaguely recalling in our minds, a time when we fit together like lock and key,

Complementing each other like sky and sea

We poked holes in the sky to let our light shine through,

Danced among the space because this place was made for me and you.

We could dominate this place,

Set ablaze our love and create stars and quasars with the embers,

But we’ve forgotten who we are, so how can we create what we don’t remember?

Back home

@ocmollyraymond

After years of fighting and running from whatever would whatever universe he was in he was free. Finding a bright light but dark tunnel he went inside if anything just to hide to rest but once inside it started to spin like a tornado. Before he knew what was happening he was in the sky then to the ground just as fast.

With no time to react he hits the ground hard with a bang “ouch” he said looking around a bit dazed and confused. But looking around he sees things he’s familiar with smiling huge fighting though the pain he gets up and walked to the door.

It was S.T.A.R LABS his home his life the real one not a fake one not one from his mind. “I’m home! I’m home!” Running inside he sees it’s real the rooms the sights the smells.

“Caitlin! Cait love im” not seeing her but a stranger he stopped and drops in pain. “Excuse me ms is doctor snow here?” He asked looking up as it was to painful to get up or move any longer.

And when at last you find someone to whom you feel you can pour out your soul, you stop in shock at the words you utter— they are so rusty, so ugly, so meaningless and feeble from being kept in the small cramped dark inside you so long.
—  Sylvia PlathThe Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath