Tell me your darkness.

Let’s not pretend we are

people of different lives;

if dying is your specialty,

if you’re an expert in the

art of passing on,

we have things in common.

Sing your black songs to me,

I can pick out the rhythms,

they’re familiar in all my

pulses and heartbeats.

This is not about misery,

this is not about despair.

This is about darkness;

show me yours and

I’ll show you mine.

This is about shadows –

the ones on the wall

we cast with our

childish fingers,

how the butterflies

transformed into

monsters – terrible,

lurking monsters,

waiting for the day

we come close enough

to devour us entirely.


9 thoughts on “Shadows

  1. Thanks for being open to darkness. There is so much pretending at perpetual light that it gives me heart burn. Where bright light shines there must be shadow. Unless there is nothing else at all.

    Keep writing! I’m loving your work.

Thoughts? I love those.

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