walking through the night streetlights glow through thin curtains - wind echoes a song. a ghost walks on soft feet, treading by candlelight: wisps of smoke follow. mirror in a dark room - there stands a shadow. she looks like she knows me.
you don't see me, don't know i'm here. some days even i forget that i'm here. (i spend too long in the shadow and even in light i am invisible) when i reveal myself i can do so only for a night. energy's accumulation is at its strongest. (do you see me, amidst the night?… Continue reading shadow-walker
i have misplaced myself. have you seen me around somewhere? i am the shadowy figure you think you hallucinate. (mainly on a darkened evening; tea poured, the light has nothing better to do than trick you) yes, that's me - the lost wanderer skimming through cobbled rainy streets before you get the chance to remember… Continue reading NaPoWriMo 10 (misplaced)
something's amiss here; your shadow trails me. mirror to mirror, i see you stalling time, freezing motion. we're both trapped here now.
it was years ago that your shadow began to follow me, slow at first and then chasing me with a greater velocity as time moved along. you needed my attention, thrived on devotion and trembled under dismissal. (tried to create weakness; remember you're not the villain of this story) and then you wilted, shadow attached to… Continue reading consumption
manipulating; light twisted, wrapped around an item like a gift. ----- watch them lengthen and drink the light: biting with fangs too old to go dull. ----- curled around you like a friend; they know how to hide insidious depths.
sometimes, i trace the locks that line the door. they are several and they pretend at security. the air is thin in here, oxygen tastes like dust and the wallpaper droops, shrinks away from the wall. (even it doesn't want to be here) it's a ritual now count the locks at night and double-check them.… Continue reading Poetry 101 Rehab: Lockdown
shadow figure slinks around, hiding sense of self for the select few. ----- hidden view, broken up by blinds: a few quick glimpses from my office desk. ----- painted anew each day (perpetual motion) done in fresh new shades.
the hiatus is sporadic. i never know when the next one will occur. some nights will be haunted, the days littered with shadows that never leave. (hint: this happens more often than not) your shadow never knows when to leave and i, i never know your name. one day to another you delight in torment… Continue reading Poetry 101 Rehab: Hiatus