Evenings scare me these days. The retiring Sun, the rushing movement of birds from Colony wires to hidden nests and the ever-changing sky scare me.
It’s not like the darkness scares me, no. It’s just what it represents. It can be beautiful to those who choose to see it that way. But these days, darkness is a choker around my porcelain neck that turns it shades of awry black and deep blue. It sits in my room every night, waiting to halt my breaths and endeavors to suffocate me until I can’t see straight or think coherently.