It seems more obvious to me, that every counting day I become more exhausted, by the way I’ve lost it. My pride. I’ve lost it. Looking for cheap thrills in oil spills, but my heart is calloused, weary and ballanced on the very thought of losing it all. I try to fill this emptiness with pain medications and the new sensations, but that’s not what my heart wants. My heart… It longs to be filled with light and shine bright, but it hasn’t learned to yet. So it seeks the darkness it has learned to crave looking; begging to be saved. Is there hope? Can it cope? So I walk these dark streets as my shadow becomes one with the night as the light fades away. This is where I feel at home, in the dark, spreading the little light in my heart; in my soul, hoping to one day just let go; and receive.