It was nice in the dark with fabric softener
filling my breath and the quiet with snuggles,
self-soothing like my momma taught me
when I'd scream for company. I learned
to love the silken dark both warm and cold
because it was safe and never confronted my comfort

with expectations. But I was left without a choice.
Once I came of age, I was yanked out
of my lovely closet and thrown onto the street.
Little layover in the bed and couch.
Right on the pavement, made to run
with the sun in my eyes but no blessing
of damaged retinas restoring the dark.
I turned away over and over,
screaming again and again, No!
but the earth rotates.

My voice remained. I always said no.
Every day the sun would rise and pester me
with intrusive questions. No. I won't.
Melt my clothes off my back and say
it's the natural way. Bury me in the soil
to keep me from running.
I will still say uh-uh without a tongue,
for I will die
before the darkness is never returned
by the night, my lovely, beautiful night.

A thousand suns I can face
as long as they set once more
and leave me to my delicious lonesome.