Darkness Gone Bad
They began
To compare their darkness
As if it were a treasure
To have been ripped to shreds
At one point in each
Of their lives
They began to
Take pride
In their darkness
Until it grew bigger and bigger
In between them
Fueled by their fears
Their doubts and their
Pride
When did it become
Such a great and marvelous thing
To have been bruised darker
To have been wounded deeper
We begin to love less those
Whose cuts are shallower?
Those whose bruises are healing?
Why?
Are we so afraid of our own scars?
That we turn them into
Our sources of pride?
So afraid to cry?
So afraid to need anyone
Or anything?
But you need and you look
And you beg in your dreams
In your dreams you fly and you flee
But when you wake up
Why do you hide it all?
{Enigmatically~Stoic} 
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