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

Stream of Consciousness

Feeding From Empty

It’s not possible.

A crop is only as good as the integrity of each individual spear of corn.

If you’re not taking care of yourself, if you’re not making time for yourself, if you’re not paying ATTENTION to yourself, you CANNOT feed someone else anything of worth.

You can’t give love if all you’re filled with is self-hate or denial. You will give a sad imitation, all the while resentment, fatigue, envy, and bitterness will grow within you.

You deserve to treat yourself like YOU MATTER.

And the world needs you to show up as your best self.

We need you. And we can only have you AFTER you recognize that you need you, and act on it.

Shadow Poetry

Love

Eyes that shine blood red

In the dark

Watching

Waiting

For the underbelly to be exposed

Fangs to know

Claws to reason

 

Run, they said

But the creatures

Lurking in the hollows of our nightmares

They are so very hard to break

And my hands are already so dirty

Necromance me

 

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.

beach-5264739_1920

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

 

soap-bubble-1959327_1920

 

Stream of Consciousness

feed your soul

i think we need a little diversion.

a little distraction, a hug for our soul.

a little love and something warm to wrap around our shoulders, a little shimmer to inject into our veins.

something different than our normal, deeper than our superficial hellos and i’m fines. maybe something that matters but isn’t so heavy.

 

we need a fire, crackling with a soft glow, hushed whispers and soft blankets. medicine for soul sickness.

love that i can pick up and slide across my skin, hand to my friends and imbue into their hearts. to absorb my tears, alchemy to turn them to comfort, alchemy to turn tears to that feeling in your chest – that luminescence that feeds you hope – flushes your neural pathways and fingers and hollows behind the eyes of all the pain and ichor flocking to you. that feeling that washes you clean and fills you with fire simultaneously in the same breath, in the same stitch of nanoseconds, flashing by in a brilliancy of love letters and dead skin cells clinging to the magic of the moment.

i think we all need a little respite, a plushy, a paradise for the soul.

maldives-3220702_1920

Stream of Consciousness

Break Room Boom #4

“I don’t think of all the misery, but of the beauty that still remains.” – Anne Frank

“Never lose hope. Storms make people stronger and never last forever.” – Roy T. Bennett

 

 

I hope that as the corona virus has turned your life upside down, that you are safe and loved. We will make it through these stressful times.

Meanwhile, don’t forget to search for joy today. Little things matter. Don’t let the world swallow you up with its hatred and isolation. We are in this together. We are strong and we care.

I think this is a perfect example of how the internet and social media is such a huge blessing. We are isolated physically. But we can still communicate and find companionship via the technology we have at our disposal.

I hope you have a fabulous day!

 

Me? I’m still going to work as of right now. The business I work for is considered an essential job so I’m pretty blessed. I only work part time and my health is being a jerk. The new medication I’ve been trying has made me worse and I’m having to get it out of my system. I’m struggling but I know I have to feel better eventually, at least emotionally (bipolar depression and anxiety are kicking my butt right now). I’m also not sleeping and dealing with a lot of pain.

But I know things will get better. They have to. Our struggles give us the opportunity to grow stronger. We can do this.

How are you?