The voices get angrier when the big searchlight in the sky goes out.
They try to take me through the paths that gaslight and sow doubt.
I chase the intrusive thoughts away by turning into a bright red blot,
And it is not necessarily a goal of mine but I am shooting my shot.
I crawl on my knees through the darkened streets without any shame.
The sounds echo in my brain without finding a corner to tame.
But the stars above me look like silver clots in a dark despair sea,
The humming of its silky splashes tail my mind in a minor key –
Until there is nothing else, just another rigid body in the water.
Someone will pull me out with a fishing line, call me their daughter.
The cycle repeats, the runaway in me starts loving the searchlights.
Too often the happiest endings never happen
Because of the darkest nights.
-JW
The Daily Writing of Jackie Wright 