Shadow Poetry

(no title)

Is there a hub? A homepage, a link tree, a place to take me to all the branches and pieces and scars of my identity?

A catalogue of all my claw marks, damages done, and gold stars earned throughout the maze between one breath and the next? How do I show you who I am?

I’d love a dropdown menu of some sort. Maybe an “about me” page auto written by the bloodstains left behind by my pen.

Maybe my closet is too full. I accidentally smothered the monster beneath my bed. That made more room, right? Maybe the signal strength in my heart is too slow, too worn, too broken, to connect with another. I repainted, remodeled, but I can’t afford a new one.

Is there a compass I can cling to? The one I fashioned with my own hands, buried in the sand for safe keeping, and moved away. I keep digging up the backyard of my mind, hoping to find the letter I wrote myself. Every night I wake from a nightmare; trembling in the darkness, my thumb on the lighter, envelope shaking in my other hand as flames lick closer.

Speak and be heard...

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