They always see me like this.

Cold. Dark. Brooding.

My stoic expressions.

My sarcastic remarks.

My indifference to the Faker.

Faker? Ha. Who am I to call him fake?

She can see right through me.

She knows how I feel.

She never asks, never pries any further.

I respect that.

Sometimes.

Sometimes I wish she would.

She flies above me, like an angel with transparent wings.

She fights with me, through good and bad.

All I was, all I am, all I will be.

She takes it.

No questions asked.

My darkness is not solid.

I have cracks within my secret heart.

"Sometimes in the darkness, light shines a little brighter."