Shadow Poetry

Swan Song

love

is exposing

the soft

fragile

fleshy

belly


and hoping they don’t

tear into it

it is a mad dash

to expose your throat

before your head reminds you

you’re made of paper machet

all it takes

is a tiny little

blade

to open your throat

bleed you out

again.


love

is knowing better

handing them your secrets

anyway

heart throwing down

that gauntlet

head standing on the breaks

when you’re alreading

in the fast lane

afraid

it might be too late

to slow down

now

you might cause a head on collision

getting in the car

shrugging


love

is unzipping the skin

from your bones

while standing

in a live minefield

abruptly aware

your neck is on the line


moments to decide

moments to decide


but your thoughts

are not

thinking right

lungs can’t remember

the best way to

breathe

trying to paint you nails

in a sling

on a bus

in an unfamiliar country

where no one

speaks your langauge


love

is splashes

of paint

linking the cemetery

you

keep

visiting

almost a silent prayer

don’t leave my heart here

again.


waiting just under

the over hang

one person’s smile

making your umbrella

seem ridiculous


stepping into the rain

faith that the rain will

stop before

your courage runs

only

now you find

it’s not rain

it’s hail

the size

of fists

opening the cardboard boxes

you duct taped

into your closet

but funny you should ask

my closet never had any

water

damage


and i’m saying

you

again

instead of me


love is like that

new neural network

which you thought came with schematics

blueprints

an idea

a plan

scribbled onto a napkin

at the very least

something


a smile

into the vast

void

simmering underneath

your eyelashes

in between your joints

settled in muscle tissue

and decorating

or maybe love isn’t decorating at all

it might be

it could be

perhaps love

is raking desperate claws

down your

wallpaper

exposing the canker

and pus

so you

can pull it out

finding all your seems

picking at the ends

until the

mismatching thread

becomes

obvious

so you can buy

some new colors

let the old ones go

taking all the dust

in your vaccum

making a pillow fight

out of it

so you can sweep it outside

this

time

breaking the ugly dishes

you don’t know

why

you kept

they have cracks and memories

in them anyway

now you can

make new ones

from star dust

and black and white stills

burning all your trophies

so you can finally

see they were chains

flaxen cords

oxen’s yoke

keeping you tied

bound to ghosts

causing cold spots

and nightmares


it’s okay

love states

i killed them for you

they cannot stalk

cannot hook your collarbone

to grave markers

cannot stuff your comforter

with lead

not anymore

i removed them for you

they cannot stain

cannot moan into your ear

while you drift into slumber

cannot speak your name

and pull you under

not ever again

i will guard the

holes in your armour


it’s okay

love declares

they will never own your

sobs

again


now you can

wipe them away

I will sit in the

expanse of unknown

right beside you

and when they bring their

pitchforks

and reason

i will hand you

your heart

from within my chest

so you can battle

your demons

with the truth in your gun

one in the chamber.


love is

trying to forget

what love is

because hug it close

now

and you might

have to sew

its dead jaw shut

put it in a box

in the ground

again


love is

creation and decay

and the moment

the moment

you recognize

love’s seed

you have

a moment to decide


a moment to decide


ironic little moments

they

never tell the

full

truth

love

is

the moment

the very moment

you flatline

and the

forever

you wake up to


By Daphne Shadows

Shadow Poetry

murky

shatter me

against the wall

but I’m already broken


some days

breathing is hard

and the only way

to keep the ink flowing

is by stabbing

the source until my hands are raw

i’m supposed to seem

like a porcelain doll

some days i don’t have a heart at all


by daphne shadows

Shadow Poetry

no vacancy

i didn’t run dry

you bled me out

like a carcass


left me propped up

no toe tag to speak of

lights on

‘open for business’ sign lit up

and lying


it’s empty

bound and covered

scrawled with lovely

bold lettering

embossed even

pages numbered

it’s empty


Daphne Shadows

Shadow Poetry

Lamp Light

when we take to the streets

no one will know our names

but they will chant our cause

and the lights will never go out


the lamps are burning

off our dead weight

the oil long gone

siphoned by the empty promises

doomed to be repeated

when all the lights go out


is it naive to believe

in happily ever after?

everyone believes

in the end


is it naive to believe

we are here for a purpose?

leaving dead skin cells

as my trail

so you can find me

when i’m lost

when i’m stuck

or is it all just void?

no point at all

i think not


when i wake

in the dead of night

searching for the reasons

i cannot find

remind me


hold me

until the gaping abyss

can no longer see me


take the truth

massage it into my skin

so i can remember

what we are fighting for


By Daphne Shadows

Shadow Poetry

depression is

depression is a liar

and a truth teller

buries heads in the sand

illuminates all the wrong


playing the villain

monsters slithering

in the shadows

making home in the hollows

paying rent in love letters


we want someone to know

but we don’t

can never tell

because


playing the hero

winning over the dragons

stepping into the flame

drinking it dry

sparing the hostages

the licking and the char


because we know what it means

to suffer inside a plastic box

nothing to soothe the ill

because we hurt

beneath bricks and mortar

dust and broken bones

we exist within

suffocation

and oxygen masks


writing these silly plot twists

with knives in our spines

emails to our graves

everyone else is a star

brilliant in crimsion hues

our screens are ebony

the colors all filtered out

we can see you

but we can’t feel your warmth


because we hurt enough

we don’t open mouths

because to add more

is to help the vile

add to the mass graves

of tears and open sutures

because we can’t hand you

this filth

your hands are so pretty

and we’re already so dirty


by Daphne Shadows

Shadow Poetry

moving forward

moving forward is the only good option

but

the drop down menu is stuck

and the library burned down

the next bus only goes back


the memory is clogged in my throat

someone stole all the maps

they left a post-it note behind

keep going

it says


did they know i’d be here?

why didn’t they wait?


i left my feet at home

i didn’t know i’d need them


i have the feeling

i was supposed to meet someone here

am i late?

did i miss them?

or did they get here before me,

read the note

keep going

it says


what if they thought it was from me?


i could leave some breadcrumbs.

Shadow Poetry

price to pay

i felt you coming

fingers sliding up my spine

miles away

 

i was told to fear you

taught hatred

revulsion

 

for sharp intentions

and sturdy makings

how they’d be so disappointed

 

in me now

i’ve gone the way

they look away from

 

hushed skeletons

dancing in the wardrobe

of their fancy guilt

 

i stole away in broad daylight

laughing into the on pour

sloughing off all my silver

 

dainty little shoes in the gutter

they shied away from the truth

but i knew

 

i knew you

inky fingers laced crimson

choked down their words

 

their own making

as they curtsied in public

buried their bodies in silence

 

i had none

waiting in the sunlight

watching in the darkness

 

one and the same

it wasn’t a race

not the war they made it

 

and freedom wasn’t very expensive

after all

all i had to do was

 

drop my mask

peel off my bullet proof vest

step into the unknown

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