"shadower" poems
I slide in and out of my room,
closing the door ever-so-gently,
I don't come back until the break of dusk.
Sometime later.
I feel like I can't go into my own apartment,
I cannot trust myself to leave any doors open,
Or even leave my toothbrush not hidden.
I fear the creaking of the shadow in the other room.
They live with nothing.
They live with horror,
and muster up terror.
I am afraid of seeing the shadows utter in the space of our apartment.
The sun doesn't shine on our space,
it burns it.
Mar 30, 2016
Mar 30, 2016 at 2:45 PM UTC
Shadower of the valley, dying of wisdom--
strung along since seven holes played
the Charmer's flute.
The licentiousness of your poetry, makes
days of worship drag along, inspiring
idleness in all its wickedness.
Leveler of leagues, unlikely elbows falling
together in deeds.
You freeze a whorled dance in the hollowed
trunk of a tree, to wait out the world you
impel.
Forever retiring to the terrible weight of its
foundation, having had the gall to drink its
basest, bitterest secretion.
Poison by any, and no other name...quenchless
blows by the scepter of you in deserted time.
As the truth be hidden in plain sight, so they
to you for salvation.
Mar 17, 2017
Mar 17, 2017 at 12:22 PM UTC