Smelling Darkness
Darkness has a smell, doesn’t it? if you had to describe it, would you begin by closing your eyes? you might say it smells of damp, musty towels wrapped up in the corner of an unfinished basement. bare feet cold concrete beneath, and somewhere close by a faint dripping of a leaky faucet. the smell doesn’t hit you right away like smoke from a cigarette, it takes careful practice to recognize. breathe slowly several times finding it seeping into your nose. the towels cause the cold floor to feel wet, the drop of the drip sounds old, and you can almost taste the thick basement air. smelling darkness seems a bit dirty and a little dangerous. I too smell darkness when I close my eyes, though I don’t picture a basement. my darkness smells of Nautica cologne, Voyage. it sits on expensive fabric beneath my right cheek as I lay on a bed of white sheets surrounded by the comfort of five-star pillows. my darkness slips a minted, hot breath mid shoulder blades as it floods me. my feet tangle in the blankets, I rappel in heat in exhaustion. I’m suffocated by the deep muffled tones it hums through the noir I’ve painted in my mind. the smell embodies hands, calloused and rough, strong. they cover my neck tickle my back, but always end up fucking me in the end. you see, for me smelling darkness is also dirty, and a little dangerous. But your darkness fades as you open your eyes. your pupils retract, you breathe in lilies and sugar dancing your way through personal highs and lows. you forget the damp towels in the corner, the air isn’t thick anymore, you are no longer focused only on your breathing. the sun warms your cold feet, dripping is replaced by laughter, and you feel clean. safe. My darkness fails to subside, I carry it with me like I carry my clothes. it hangs on my body for everyone to see and weighs me down similar to a thick winter coat. but I acclimate. I grow stronger with the extra weight. I’m able to move easier, faster through heavy moments; days where the sun doesn’t shine as bright. because it is always there, I know darkness better than anyone. I can recognize it before it engulfs me with its stench. smelling darkness is as much dirty and dangerous as it is part of me, and I intend to keep that essence entirely to myself.
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