Clutch.

Darkness isn’t always easy to find.
Not as easy as turning off a light.

Sometimes you must pull down the blinds
or seal up a crack
or tell someone to keep walking
and tell them never to look back.
Sometimes you must close your eyes
and sometimes, close your mind.
Sometimes you find it on your own
(with a torchlight, an old shoebox,
and a book of memories.)
and sometimes you find it in a friend.
Darkness can elude you
at the darkest of times.
No one ever finds what they seek.

Late last night,
darkness found me under the cloak of rainclouds.
(It found me on the night you left.)
No one was around to see
as I clutched my phone tight
and dialled your number from memory.

No one laughed when I tried again.
Touched your picture on the screen.
(Smiling, benevolent, frozen in place.
A photograph for a rainy day.)

No one asked questions
when you refused to pick up,
when my longing spilled out through my sight.
Darkness had found me
and clutched me tight.
(It found me
and dwelled within me
forgotten.)

Like an unanswered phone call.
Forgotten, but there.
(Somewhere.)

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