Cocytos

Night
She knows the taste of sadness. It tastes like Scotch whisky. She pours some in a glass now and holds it to her nose. She inhales slowly. It smells like rain. Then she takes a sip and lets herself feel the bitterness seeping in.

Evening
She takes a walk through the forest. It used to be a favorite spot for her, once upon a time when she was happy. It's still a favorite spot for her, because it is a good place for someone who holds darkness in her heart.

Morning
Mornings are the worst time of day. She cannot escape the sight of an empty space which was once filled with a living, breathing person. She stands in the doorway, looking at the bed where someone once slept. Her chest feels as if there is a solid mass of sadness swelling inside. She can feel it pressing against the inside of her ribs, threatening to burst them apart.

Night
She is grateful for the comfort of darkness. She looks at the stars. Then she closes her eyes and wills them to go out one by one. The sky turns as black as coal. She lets her shoulders drop. She lets the memories come. She opens her mouth to sob soundlessly.

She feels the comforting cold stab of despair, and she welcomes it into her. Despair is not the enemy; the enemy is hope.