There Comes A Point When

I Wondered If He Ever Thought Of Me, And Hated The Pang I Felt When I Told Myself He Didn't.

There Was Nothing, Nothing To Depend On. And Why Was I Surprised?

I Had Stepped Into His Arms, Showing Him My Raw, Broken Heart.

That Was The Thing: Once, The Difference Between Light And Dark Had Been Basic. One Was Good, One Bad. Suddenly, Though, Things Weren’t So Clear. The Dark Was Still A Mystery, Something Hidden, Something To Be Scared Of, But I’d Come To Fear The Light, Too. It Was Where Everything Was Revealed, Or Seemed To Be. Eyes Closed, I Saw Only The Blackness, Reminding Me Of This One Thing, The Most Deep Of My Secrets; Eyes Open, There Was Only The World That Didn’t Know It, Bright, Inescapable, And Somehow, Still There.

Still, There Was Also Was Something Reassuring About Working For Commercial, Almost Hopeful. Like Things That Were Lost Could Be Found Again. As We Drove Away, I Always Tried To Imagine What It Would Be Like To Open Your Door To Find Something You Had Given Up On.