My soul is black.
Black and hard and crushing
and it sparkles.
It has burned, and healed, and conquered.
It can make you into something new
or turn you to crumbling coal
my soul is lost
it often loses its way, stuck sucking light
my soul forgets that it sparkles
that it reflects, spreads, and shines.
There are parts of me that sparkle,
even if most of me is harsh and unforgiving and sucking black
They protect each other, the black and the sparkle.
They are never left alone, one without the other.
And I am always protected.
The black can eat whatever comes along.
Though sometimes, I just need to sparkle.
- Hope Fager