By Madison Broadbent
5th January 2021
To Dearest Joy,
I write to you because I believe I will be joining you soon. I have been feeling more detached to the world surrounding me whilst simultaneously growing more attached to the darkness and anticipating my impending perish.
The shadows of the night let my spirit ponder. These charcoal figures ghost across my pitch-black canvas bending to the will of my fragile mind. These figures are friendlier than the ones I know in daylight- their edges are blurred and fuzzy compared to that of the harsh corners of human flesh and temporary cotton. This time the unknown is my certain. I know that I am safe in the confiding comfort of my own room. Pulsing through my head my stresses emerge to be my release as auras splash across my landscape like watercolours across a sheet.
The nocturnal hours of 3am are beginning to fully bleed through. Animals no longer howl in anguish, instead they are silent in slumber; Alike to the monsters that stalk in daytime, no violent curling screams can reach me as they heavily sleep.
Basking in these anti-social hours I can ignorantly pretend I am cherished for my yearning feelings of not being alone craft the physical sights I wish for in the night. This is my euphoric period, where I am denied the fear of certainty and instead granted authority over the figures and towers woven by myself. My heart is on a rampage as I lay down silently. It is in the darkness that I am blinded by abhorrent growls; In the end, the prolonging thickening twilight is my only sanctuary.
When daylight looms, it will only make me more aware, that nobody is here and that my world is achingly vacant. Reflectively in all honest despair, the reality of loneliness that stings in the daytime is something I cannot bear.
However, here where nothing is everything, my emotions do not cease to matter. The corpsing pale flesh that clings onto a shell of bone does not look like my own; but I know that I’m in control. In the eerie hours of the morning, the windows are left undisclosed. As long as I'm awake, the daylight sun cannot fade my only escape. In the darkness everything is clear. There are no reflections of a stranger staring back where I should stand, as the midnight void of warriors do not wear any features.
No frowns, no glares, no hateful snarls. Among the deceased I am no longer fearful of living. Here in this cube where walls are not enclosed but instead limitless, I can find forfeiture in all I had lost and instead account for what I had wished.
Loved, cared for, Cherished.
Ultimately, the sun will escape the landscaping of the earth and I will be forced to face them all. It’s at 3am when I feel most at home, and if death can replicate that whilst I am reunited in your care, I am decided;
No more.
