There’s a golden light inside of her begging on its hands and knees.
Let me shine. Let me out. I want to shine, it pleads.
The luminescent being sits inside of an immeasurable abyss, trapped, like a turtle in a box. Some days the lights radiance is enough but other days, the light drowns in exhaustion of being the only source of color and confidence present in the atmosphere. Despite the charcoal void consuming all of the air, the light still burned boldly. Even with each time the wind committed an act of pure betrayal, trying to vanish the lustrous beam with its harsh exhale, the light only grew in saturation. The day broke and became a sea of colors for a moment- but only just that. A moment. The lights confidence persevered and it’s survival made it stronger. The light sits inside of her, supplicating it’s agony to let it out, let it shine.
She feels the light. She knows it’s there. She nurtures it and watches it grow. She does not know how to let the light shine in all of its glory.
She wakes during the night and aches for the sun.