Terror rests in me.

Letting go of who you were to morph into something entirely new is a painful though that makes me sick to my stomach. The damage of past mistakes, hurts and sufferings have created a scar tissue deep within my soul that I have grown to love. I don't want to forget what anything felt like. Being homeless, being scared of the ones I love not being there when I got home, accepting someones love only for them to change their mind and much mor. These things are a part of me and I refuse to move on, to forget them. They are little morbid treasures I keep in a box hidden in the labyrinth of my soul. Most people don't dare to enter and those who do mostly find it terrifying and run away, pretending they didn't see it. That place contains no laughter, only a silence that is sweet melody to my ears. This place reminds me of who I could have been and where I come from. It reminds me that I do posess abilities to be hurt and do wrong. This place also gives me endless reason to love, care, have hope and believe. As contradicting as that may seem it is a statement that bares only truth. I enjoy the light, with the comfort and warmth it brings because I still remember what the cold, moist darkness feels like. It gives me full reason to give my life for that light.
So I will not give up my darkness. With forgetting my darkness, I fear that I would also forget the light. I would rather savage apes rip off my skin in a slow relentless way that caused me agony for weeks than forget the light. So, I will carry my bitter past with me because where others see terror, I am reminded of peace.