One-Hundred Days

The night comes down around us suffocating. The stars are stripped across the sky, one after another, violent in their travels against the black velvet blanket draped across our atmosphere. It seems pointless, to be out here, in the middle of the night where no one dares to go. We are missing nothing, as nothing happens in the night. Everything sleeps in the night, or stays beneath the shelter of the walls they build around themselves. They stay inside, safe from the unknown open darkness, favouring the familiar and safe darkness hiding behind their closed eyelids.

We are pointless, staying here in the middle of the night, where the ghosts and demons creep from the packed dirt, settled into patches beneath knee high grass. We walk through, hand in hand, with this blanket of a sky draped across our shoulders and the tails of ghosts whisping around our ankles. They trip us up and make us stumble across the dirt, but we keep walking through the endless unfamiliar night.

We can't see a thing except for the stars ripping giant holes in the black expanse above us, and I constantly tug on your hand to have you slow down or stop. I constantly have you looking up or down or here or there, if only to have you forget that we are in the night and that we shouldn't be here.
I like it here, in the night, no matter how pointless we may be, I like it, and that makes it worth it.

The dark can hide my doubts and insecurities. I can hide behind the darkness, with a quiet voice and bright eyes, I can blend into the night, whereas in the day I am the easiest to see.
I can become invisible inside of the night.

You keep us walking. Through graves and yards, you keep my feet moving behind yours. Our noise slices through the silence and makes us visible. I keep my head down, but my eyes strained to see the stars, our guiding graces through this night like any other, and where we are the only living things with more than a soul and hollow eyes walking through these dark hours.

We are pointless, walking through the night to be with the ghosts of past lives. They wisp their tails around our ankles, and their ghastly hands around our necks. I close my eyes and fall away from the night, while you run into it. I close my eyes to find the familiar darkness resting behind my eyelids.