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Darby Nigeria
Freelancer @ Unilag
Lagos, Nigeria
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In Literature, Writing and Blogging 1 min read
The Bargain
<p>They told me, “Dance with your demons,” so I did.</p><p>I waltzed in the dark where the lost things hid.</p><p>I twirled with the shadows, I bowed to the ache—</p><p>Every step that I borrowed, a promise I’d break.</p><p><br/></p><p>“Fall in love with your pain,” they said.</p><p>So I made my sorrow a feather bed.</p><p>I kissed every scar, I named every cry—</p><p>Thought loyalty would keep them from saying goodbye.</p><p><br/></p><p>Oh, I was faithful. Oh, I was true.</p><p>To the hollow nights, to the bitter dew.</p><p>I whispered, “Stay—you’re all I know.”</p><p>Like a field that loves the coming snow.</p><p><br/></p><p>But demons get bored. They always do.</p><p>They left one morning without a clue.</p><p>Not with a crash, not with a fight—</p><p>Just silence where they used to bite.</p><p><br/></p><p>And pain? That lover, so deep, so real—</p><p>One day forgot how to make me feel.</p><p>It packed its bags in a hollow bone,</p><p>Said, “You healed too much to be my home.”</p><p><br/></p><p>So now I stand where the music ends,</p><p>Mocked by the joke of the “loyal friends.”</p><p>They left like everyone—fancy that.</p><p>Even the dark gets tired of the bat.</p><p><br/></p><p>But here’s the laugh the demons missed—</p><p>In losing them, I learned to exist.</p><p>The dance was a trap, the pain was a lie,</p><p>But the girl </p><p>who survived?</p><p>She learned to fly.</p>

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