Poetry

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No stranger to the shadows, they’ve been to you close friends
Embracing you in secrecy they camouflage your pain. Never speaking only listening, they seem to understand, on the heart infuriated and injured the shadows make no demands.

Who am I, and who I am are questions cloaked in mystery.
In the shadows there is nothing that distinguishes these silhouettes from me; Like gazing in a mirror without reflection, by the darkness I’m defined.

Cloaked in the solitude of darkness what truth have I come to know? It hasn’t healed my bleeding wounds, but blinded me to discern how infected that they grow. I know the pain I’m suffering, but the shadows they ignore, accepting me just as I am with flaws and opened sores.

No stranger to the shadows, with them I have a friend. They show me all that I’ll ever know, believe or understand. The only problem that I have with darkness is that like everything and everyone I’ve known, when confronted by the light it too leaves me all alone.

Oh no, I’m no stranger to shadows, it’s the light that I don’t know!

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