demons can reisde in parts of your mind,
hidden beneath shadows and thoughts to intertwined.
You may not even know until its too late,
struggling with the crawling, nagging feeling nothing's right

Struggling with the darkest part in your brain
Telling you to do it, but you must refrain
You know you don't want to but you have to believe
One day the demons just have to leave




....don't they?

My brand new life and social game
forfeited in godawful shame
forgotten by default foreshadowed and defeated.
arise again.

Move mountains,
Move seas,
Spread peace,
Remain a friend.

Risen again i will fall
I will never stand tall
But i can rise up again.

imagine:

a night colored ocean
vast
white clouds, floating above.
casting shadows along the jagged, watery surface.
or perhaps
they are the silhouettes
of beasts
leviathans beneath the surface
with water filtering through their jagged teeth,
scales as sharp as needles.
or maybe
there are just clouds.
soft tufts of water
above a jagged
midnight
sea.

To forgive the unforgivable
To carry on as if nothing's wrong
Though you have too much on your mind
And a mountain on each shoulder
To push through the storm
Because you know the calm is waiting
Like a creature of nature who hibernates during the long and cold winter months
Until the warmth of the sun is felt
The ice slowly decays
Invisibly cocoon yourself from all that is around you
And know that better is to come
Better is on its way
Pay no attention to the shadows
For that is what they are ... Mere shadows
The more you look at them ... The taller they grow
Cast luminosity and it shall terminate their existence
For the dark can not exist in the light
But the light of Love will banish all darkness

She hasn’t left her room for three days. She hasn’t left her house in two weeks. She hasn’t gone into town in a month before that. She hadn’t been rationing her food supply on purpose but it’s what ended up happening anyway.

She’s laying on the floor, now. She’s been laying on the floor and staring at the ceiling for hours. She knows that the ceiling is a muted, toneless, comforting beige but all she can focus on is the creeping gray shadows that feel like a physical barrier between herself and the rest of the world. She knows that these shadows are only really in her head, but four nights ago the angle of the sun coming through her curtains had been just right and all she could focus on was an oppressive mass of shadow that froze her in her tracks and locked her inside her own mind as it crawled nearer and nearer.

That horrifying moment had only been that, a moment, but now that she’s locked away she doesn’t even have the energy to start looking for the key.

She’s been lying on the floor staring at her not-gray ceiling for hours. She has no idea what day it is because every time her mind starts to right itself into something resembling coherency there is another shudder of uncertainty and the physical shadows in her mind slither over her more tightly and she is left again a shell of herself, dead, glassy eyes staring, seeing nothing and the ceiling, both at once.

However, if there is one thing she can focus on longer than anything else, it is the shadows. The ones that wriggle in the corners of her periphery and make up her cage. Even if her mind can’t pull itself together enough to name the days, she can at least count how many times the shadows were at their weakest and instead of reaching towards the silhouette of her body, she can at least count the three times where she felt the light pressure of warmth on her skin. It lasted a little while, she remembers, vaguely, but it was never long before the briefest change in the shadows illuminated their own movement again. Again, if coherency was anywhere near possible she might question how her strict one-way mind can connect that this means that days have passed, but for now she just waits in numb agony for nothing and everything in her mind to make sense.

She has no idea if she is awake or asleep and really, doesn’t care.

The darkness reigns within,
The shadows burst forth,
Unseen with the naked eye,
Loneliness is bound to the soul,
Wishes for the light,
But can never have contact,
Blindness is inevitable,
For the light is so bright,
And the darkness is where you live,
For eternity searching for more,
Than the shadows that keep you company.

The shadows of our footprints
follow us everywhere from the court,
the pavement, the dance, the street,
ink stained register of our birth,
and the stumble to grave,
invisible to us unless
in melting snow, bed of dirt.

The powder on the factory floor
leaves the forensics of our existence.

Watch as trees bend
to cover the crime,
wind and lighting conspire
to cover the crime.

The little black dog on a leash
being hastily pulled away
as his hind paws kick up snow
in a frenzy conspiracy to hide the tracks
while other tracks are exposed in
the freshly trampled white
too numerous for even limbs to hide.

The angles of shadow staircases and flues
declare the evidence of their guilt,
their conspiracy with death.

An iron rooster crowing northwest
in the embers of the day
exposes rooftop crosses
and a receding skyline,
caught in the smoky cyclone
that reveals two once tall towers.

Two shadows on the pavement
walk towards each other
one holding onto the long
rail of a stop sign while
the lady on the third floor
arranges three flower pots
on her tenement window sill
in the enclosing concrete footprints
that surround her and every one.