Spill

How many times have we shunned the dark ones?

Turned our backs on a once celestial figure and walked away.

How many times have we been shunned?

At our darkest, did we not pray for a figure of light to save us?

Our hands outstretched, but they leave us to rot.

When we are light, are we afraid that their darkness will diminish that?

But why should that matter?

If, in the moment a dark one reaches for us, we remember how it was to be covered in night.

How can we not reach back for them?

How can we not pull them forward and share our light?

Together, we discover a brightness that eludes words.

Together, we allow each other to flourish.

And when darkness returns to one, the other will not flee.

Instead, they will sit beside each other.

Letting their light spill onto one another.