Black.

I’m sitting underneath the stars listening to how the stars talk to me.

They tell me I like the color of your sweater, and i tell them I do too,

Because the stars home is black.

I found comfort in the darkness that’s lit by stars that are so far away.

I thought all my worries would dissipate in the darkness.

I didn’t feel real in the dark, like I was detached from the rest of the world.

Whenever I cried the blackness surrounding me blanketed me in a chilly embrace.

Black was dark, so I think black understands me,

Like how I feel darkness does.

The darkness is lonely with no one to talk to.

At first I felt bad for it, but then I befriended the darkness.

Wiping away the pity I once felt for it, replacing it with relationship.

But what if the darkness didn’t have to be so lonely.

That’s what I originally thought, but I think I like how it is now, lonely, because it’s special this way.

Darkness isn’t dark to me, it’s light with possibilities and makes me feel happier.

So I was wondering if black could be light too, if given the chance.