Dark Day

One day,
Not to say which
Or how many,
I fed myself with darkness.

It felt great.

I had to spend my whole life
Trying to relearn
The fact that I was
Immutably and
Absolutely
Alone.

It can be tough.

Nobody wants to accept
Their frustrated 
And unceasing need 
For a company.

But I never believed 
That lying to myself
Was going to solve 
Any of my problems.

I was born with a louder
Conscience than the rest,
I think.

I didn’t mean more ethical
Or even more inteligent.
The fact is that everytime I know
Or believe in something,
It screams inside of me.

I wasn’t gifted
With the power
To pretend to be
Someone I am not.

So, in a determined point
Of my definitely finite life,
I accepted the darkness.

It was supposed to be a piece
Inside of each one of us.
Maybe only inside of me.

In the end, 
That difference 
Didn’t quite matter.
Since it was there
And I could feel it,
It was real.

And at this moment,
When I accepted who I was,
I felt free.

And there, 
While embracing 
My own darkness,
I was complete.