Darkness Was Never a Void

It doesn't ask for clarity. It asks to be witnessed.

Listen carefully, for this is a story the wind still tells.

Something had already gone wrong, though no one knew it yet. It was the night, arriving earlier than it should have. No one was there to witness it besides myself, so the moon offered me a wish on the condition that I keep it secret.
When the mother before mothers, keeper of the tides, blood and return, hushed the sky, a melody spread through realms like a lullaby.
Stars started to light one by one, and the darkness that wrapped around every corner like a blanket was gone.

To honour the pact that was settled, the North Star offered a sacrifice, yet each of its kind hesitated to dim their light because it was their only identity.

While most of the stars stayed distant from the Earth, Luno was born there, already having lived without full light. It knew darkness was not a state of annihilation, but a state to recognise, breathing through gills, learning patience before flight.

Before the hour when doors forgot which side they belonged to, Luno knew that true luminosity was carried within, and that the outer world was only a reflection of what lived inside.

Belonging anywhere besides itself was temporary, so rather than shrinking its essence, Luno grew comfortable in its skin. Eventually, it evolved to its becoming, rising into air and light, abandoning the water once it learned to fly.

The Universe was proud, so it gifted Luno with a shimmery light that was brighter than any other star in the sky.

Yet, stars do not glow endlessly out of will.
They burn because what is gathered long enough must eventually speak.

When the light itself became too heavy for Luno, the cosmos responded by calling a deeper night. On the second fortnight of the Shallow Dawn, the Universe sealed the deal with a necklace shaped like a dragonfly. Luno was destined to return to the Earth because the only way to balance its light was to restore darkness.

The Universe aligned, and I witnessed the night’s early arrival right on time, offering Luno a chance to return to the Earth to fulfil the wish that was granted me by the moon.

Earth could not hold Luno as a star, so it taught it how to forget itself and returned its mortality.

Every fairytale hides a warning.
This one hid a mirror.

The real story began when Luno became Luna, and a star was transformed into a human while her darkness followed her everywhere.

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The moment itself acted as the first determinator,
I chose it long before you named it; I am older than your choosing.
the air of the room,
I press against it until it remembers every word you swallowed.
the pulse of the exchange,
I count what you felt but did not answer.
the fragile weight of the environment.

Everything breaks eventually; I wait.
The others flowed from within.

I never leave. I only change disguises.

Every face I met
was a mirror you pretended not to recognize,
started entwining with my reflection.

I braided myself through them, quiet as breath on glass.

The gaze that kept looking at me in the mirror
was mine first.
was fused in red,
the color of warning, not romance,
carrying another’s expression.

Borrowed eyes are how I travel.

The air thinned,
because I leaned closer,
and I remained breathless.

You mistake that for awe. It is restraint.

The moment became not the cause,
but the alibi.
but the reason
you tell yourself when you don’t want the truth
for everything else that had happened.

I am the truth you softened.

What once was a heartbeat
was a knock you didn’t answer,
turned into buried ashes
I keep warm under my tongue
of a skeleton.

You call it memory. I call it evidence.

When my alarm went off,
I was already awake.
at 6:59 a.m.,
I like being early.

it was another day
you tried to survive politely,
where I had to wake up
and put my face back on.

while it was still dark,
my preferred hour.

and I regretted drinking that glass of red wine
because it loosened the door
before going to bed.

I slipped through anyway.

I was late,
you always are.

as I always had been,
I make sure of it.

and so I rushed,
fear is my favorite fuel.

as I always did,
habit is how I stay fed.

walking towards the underground,
you think descent means escape.

on ice-covered ground,
I enjoy watching you try not to fall.

Hundreds of lives jammed
together so no one has to be seen,
into the same corner,
safety by compression.

carried by the same vessel,
everyone pretending not to touch.

but the air lost its meaning.
Too much breath wasted on avoidance.

A man who sat across from me
recognized me without knowing why.
had blushed cheeks.

The body always betrays first.

When the woman beside him
left,
arrived at her stop,
taking his courage with her,

the colour dissolved,
cowardice settling back in.

his expression replacing itself
with relief.

with a smile
that asked to be forgiven,
that carried relief.

I marked him and moved on.

I had placed my coffee
between you and the world,
on the seat next to me.

A weak barricade.

When someone asked me to move it,
he wanted space, not connection,
so they could sit.

absence has weight too.

I smiled,
your favorite disguise.

and he returned nothing,
emptiness recognizes emptiness.

only a blank state.
I felt at home.

The only thing that made my morning
pause,
interesting,

was innocence you cannot touch.

was seeing a little girl
still unclaimed by me,
reading a newspaper,
learning the world early,
careful and attentive.

I will meet her later.

She sat across from me,
untouched.

while I questioned my life,
I already know the answers.

and she looked more interested than the rest of us
because she hasn’t learned to look away
in the world we live in.

I am patient.

Arriving at my stop,
you hesitate.

my feet moved forward.
I nudged.

It’s quiet today,
too quiet.

the opposite of what’s within.
I pace.

Trying to understand,
you think understanding tames me.

my current state,
I change states like weather.

one I can’t yet step out of,

because I am the floor.

noticing what matters,
you notice me only sideways.

where direction softened into understanding,
where you stopped fighting.

not a task to complete,
not something you can finish,
but a state to inhabit.

I’ve already unpacked
through compassion.

Careful—compassion opens doors.

I put on glasses,
you think they’re playful,
that carried kaleidoscope colours.

Fragmentation suits me.

They weren’t asking for clarity.
Clarity would send me away.

They were asking to be witnessed.
So was I.

The freedom to be anything
includes becoming me,
even if that brings loneliness.

I thrive there.

My darkness was never a void.
It is furnished.

What once seemed hollow
was only echoing,
became my cosy home.

I made the bed.

For now, I remain whole,
so do I.

and that is enough for today.

I don’t need more. I have you.

And if that’s okay,
it isn’t.

can you shut the door
I already have the key
as you walk away?

I never quite do.

Tonight I’m alone,
you tell yourself that,
but not lonely.

I’m here.

©2026 imi, ©2026 Kim Williams, M.Div.

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