Shadow Poetry

can’t be

brokenness hurts

and i can’t seem to erase it

from my bones

 

i scrub and scrape

and beg and cry

but i’m still broken

 

still living in a graveyard

trying to dig my way out

of my own coffin

 

i don’t want to be here

don’t want to bleed tears

i wish my heart didn’t hurt

 

to be honest

some days i wish i was just numb

truly numb

 

no pain, no misery

but i know that’s not realistic

i just wish my heart didn’t hurt

 

i bought new skin

i painted my face

took all the classes

sat in all the circles

prayed to the heavens

read all the books

tried all the meds

sat in silence

 

but nobody heard me

no answers came

and i couldn’t heal me, either

i guess

 

but all this pain

can’t be it

brokenness can’t be my fate

 

so i’ve braved the weather

the cold and the hate

to find this tiny flower

outside the walls of my tomb

 

i’ll leave it in a jar

and pray it stays alive

because my life cannot be

just the need to survive.

 

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Stream of Consciousness

Mental Health Break

So last week I didn’t do any blogging or step into Twitter because I just

could

not

anymore.

 

And you know what? People were pretty cool about it.

I just want to celebrate that for a moment.

 

We are a crazy society that sometimes causes pain out of thin air, makes bad situations worse, and uses hate to fight hate.

But we are also adaptable and beautiful and capable of healthy change. Of coming together and lifting one another.

 

Yeah, there are nasty people in this world. Hateful, bigoted, dangerous people who just want to spread pain and misery.

BUT there are wonderful people in this world, too. People who fight for what is right, people who would NEVER step on someone else to get higher up the ladder, who comfort those that need comfort, and mourn with those that are mourning.

There are lovely people who truly SEE those around them. Who support and lead and spread joy and hope in ways that touch hearts and invigorate minds.

 

A simple smile. Someone talking to you like you’re really there, like you’re human. A hug (when it’s welcomed). Someone to sit with you while you cry and just BE there.

There are wondrous human beings.

And there is hope. No matter how much life hurts. There is hope.

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Stream of Consciousness

what to do?

what do you do when your reserves are bone dry

and all the answers you’ve received aren’t helping?

 

what do you do when your best just isn’t good enough

and your hard work and effort haven’t produced anything?

 

how do you live when you’re caught between a deluge of pain

and the struggling knowledge that you need to be, you must be optimistic and hopeful?

 

how do you live

when all the energy you have left is going to survival?

 

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Stream of Consciousness

fight

give yourself credit

forgive your past mistakes

let go of what you think makes you unworthy or unlovable

 

you matter

you’re needed

don’t give up on yourself or your dreams

 

fight

even if fighting means all you do is get up and do what you can – fight

even if you don’t feel it

hope for it

even if you can’t hope or trust or believe or find it in yourself to feel anything good at all – keep going.

keep moving and the feeling will eventually follow

 

don’t give up on yourself

 

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Stream of Consciousness

washing basin of another sort

there’s a reservoir i find deep inside

a pool of mirrors, turned malleable

i swim there

dip my toe

lie on my back

weightless

forgetting the

tick

tock

of time

 

i visit

but i can’t seem to stay

not yet

anyway

 

if i dip the slivers of my soul

inside

just for the slightest

of breaths

 

they grow

the battered

bruised

surface

glowing

shining

with new strength

scar tissue proving

i can do this

and so can you

 

believe in magic

believe in you

 

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Stream of Consciousness

pinky promise?

promise me this

if you get lost

you’ll keep looking for a path, a light, an opening

don’t give up

don’t give in to the cold and the darkness so eagerly reaching its hands out to you, fingers outstretched, wanting you to curl up in a ball at the base of a gulf so wide and deep you’ll never find which way is up to crawl out

keep going

one breath at a time

one choice at a time

one footstep into the unknown you’re facing at a time

knowing

knowing you can handle whatever comes next

and no matter how much it hurts, stretches you, scars you – you are stronger

 

promise me

promise me

you will never give up

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Shadow Poetry

i’m rather raw

i’m learning and falling down and getting bruised on my way back up
but it’s okay for me to be naive
because i know i’m naive
and i’m just trying to find a way to live
without compromising my soul
without snuffing out another’s flame
without breaking to a point that i can’t put myself back together
i’m trying and i’m trying out new things
it’s extraordinarily uncomfortable and sometimes i can’t breathe
don’t want to breathe
too afraid to move
because i might have to notice how i truly feel
but i’m not staying down
or staying under the covers
because monsters live inside the places that i thought were safe

 
Daphne Shadows

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Stream of Consciousness

magic peddler

if i could have any job, i’d be a magic peddler.

leave fairy dust behind in my barefooted trail, sprinkling madness into your lives, waking you up, slipping fire into your veins.

every time you’d walk the same ground i’d walked, heat would shoot through the soles of your feet, spreading chaos like a disease, giving you the choice to harness or fall to it.

i’d sell tinctures to open eyes and flush hearts of doubt. carry a deck of cards, read your past and extract the damages so you could find the slivers of silver left behind.

i’d unleash dragons and fashion lakes of healing for lepers.

charge you to swim with the mermaids (for a nominal fee) and sell second chances for pennies.

i’d brush my fingertips over lips to hush destruction and hand out re-purposed gags as bandages stitched together with bone dust of the long lost enemies of life.

i’d breath love into the lungs of the sadists parading about as saviors and poison the earth with regrowth and health.

 

expose truth and lies the same – break the world’s rib cage open and expose that soft, squishy, vulnerable heart beating in the dark, begging for help.

pull the sky down and sing it a lullaby. dust rain down the saddest souls, sweeping all the decay and dead skin cells out of the way. there’s no other way to prepare one for joy, not even for a magic peddler.

i’d bottle your tears and water my garden as payment. as the loveliest flowers grew, i’d place a vase on your pillow and help you pray with your heart, connecting to everything growing and thriving about you until breathing came easy.

 

gather many together and break open their chests, sit everything that hurt in the middle and sob together. i’d whisper magic words as you slept. help you come to, pick it all back up and put yourself back together. help you stand with rose petal splints and laughter.

maybe i’d learn to heal me too

 

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