Little darkness

It was as if I was sweeping it away - the black, the muck. 

There was a heap of it above me, it was crackling, like stiff sticky plastic bags; black bin bags, birthing into the shapes of bats and crows; coming to life in their mutual mutations.

They terrified me, I was panicked and working in such a rush to get rid of it all; to sweep it all away, and the more I did so, the more it grew.

Little darkness

Little darkness

Little darkness of mine.

The sky shows me visions of my psyche; she follows me.

My scorpion rising, she know me, more than I know myself.

Unleashed from her tail; her skin; I am born again, and in her sting, I feel the true burn; the true bug; the true motion of life's affirming stem.

Massive wasp.

Massive mess.

Massive darkness.

That which we ignore, we also abuse.

'...listen to his feet..'

Dive into the darkness.