Vanilla Shadows

There's a sweetness in the suffocation, like vanilla clinging to my skin, promising warmth, yet whispering dread, as silence wraps me from within. The scent once filled my restless nights, a balm against the creeping fear, but now it thickens, heavy, each breath a struggle, each thought unclear. I used to chase the golden light, finding solace in its glow, now shadows stretch like haunting hands, pulling me where I can't let go. The world spins softly, a muted hum, and I'm lost in thoughts that bind, am I the one who's fading, or just a specter left behind? Yet in the dark, a whisper coils, "Sweetness hides in the depths of pain-- embrace the weight, confront the ache, for there's freedom in the strain." In that moment, a flicker flares, a spark igniting my will-- the vanilla, once a prison, can be the key to break the chill.