My body rots in the warm sun. It pierces my skull like a thousand tiny blades cutting with perfect precision to make each jab hurt worse than the last. This, my brightened surroundings, are rays beating down onto my scorched flesh, laughing at my inability to coexist in its presence. It taunts me, reminding me that I don’t belong. But I know my place. My soul lives among the shadows, dances with the moon, and twinkles with the stars in the night sky. This, where my demons live and thrive, is my prison. This, my world of darkness, is my salvation. This, where anything is possible, is my redemption. This is my playground.
© Sarah Doughty
Photo and edit are mine.