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.