I am attracted to the dark places.
The places others won't go.
The buildings in the back of the alley.
The homes with broken windows.
The mold along the baseboards.
I'm attracted to the dark places.
The people they attract.
The nod from the man at the coffee shop.
Who knows where I start my morning.
Who lives alone in a hotel room.
I am attracted to the dark places.
The chipped paint. The broken boards.
The swing set falling apart.
The smell of mildew.
The cracks in the linoleum.
The room in the back.
The bed downstairs.
I may look like I've escaped.
May appear finished, sophisticated, and of another world.
But the dark places.
That's where I'm from.
That's where I'm home.
The dark places are my escape.
To a world I know and understand.
To people who know not to ask.
Anything.
They know why you're there.
They know you belong.
At least for that moment.
Maybe forever.
You never leave the dark places.
Once you've been.
They make a mark.
You can't erase it.
And if you're from those places.
If the darkness is your home.
No matter where you go
No matter what you see
You belong to the dark places
You seek them out
And they find you.
I'm attracted to the dark places.
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