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Sashagirl

If you don't learn to write your own story, someone else will write it for you

7 poems·Since June 2017
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The Shadow Inside

December 21, 2017

A shadow is a curious thing.

Sometimes it follows; sometimes it leads.

It’s always attached; it won't ever stray

To other places during the day.

It’s always dark, a shark of black

Following or leading the attack.

It’s a faceless, nameless, nemesis.

A worthy foe, it’s venomous.

All day long, I see it around,

Stretching away along the ground.

It goes where I go; it sees what I see,

And every day knows more of me.

And then night comes, and something

Strange happens.  The weirdest thing

I’ve ever seen.  The shadow vanishes.

 At first I think the might of night damages

Its stark, dark, form, but that’s not it.

The night doesn’t try to evict

The shadow.  It’s still around,

Just not as easy to be found.

See, at night, the shadow doesn’t cease to be,

The shadow crawls inside of me.

A true Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde,

At night, I’m just the shadow inside.

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