Who I really am?

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nyctophilia (n.) love of darkness or night. Finding relaxation or comfort in the darkness

I’m the little dark corner in the brightly lit alley, the dark to cover all the tears and woes. I’m the corner where the cats feed on dirt, snarl and growling dogs fight over the leftover, I’m the corner where people seek comfort in the dark. I’m the one who despise smiles and happiness because they are fickle emotions that leaves a warm feeling for a while just to make you feel so cold, you want to never ever feel warmth again. They are illusions to make you feel better but when the effect fades away, you are stung by so many emotions; you start to forget what you’re even feeling. I’m the one who enjoys sadness and lamenting over things to carve yet another scar in the beautiful white sheet of paper. The tattoo on the sheet, so black like the darkest night you’ve never ever witnessed with the howling and screams of pain, steams of tears and blood flow in that night and I lay there, amidst my dark night, smiling for the cold that lies in my heart. I am strong then, not the meek girl I used to be, I don’t feel fear then because it would be me people would fear because I’m the darkness and pain that people are afraid of. I have carved words that states about me drowning in the black hole and being trapped in darkness. I was scared of pitch black night but now I no more am afraid. Now I’m the pitch black night.

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