The Other Side

Shadows.
She sees shadows
Shaped into the outline
Of her demons.

Her breath.
Her breath grows soft,
Nothing more
Than the gentle hum
Of summer air.

But her thoughts.
Her thought are cold.
Cold as winter.
Cold as ice.
Sharp as a knife
When she sees the shadows.

Her hands.
Her hands,
Once stretched into the light,
Now curled into fists.
Fists of darkness.

The shadows.
The shadows,
Gray as the world
Carve into the darkness.
The darkness of her chest.

Its cadence.
Its cadence mimics the song of her heart.
Her heart turns to stone.

Her eyes.
Her eyes become blind.
Blind to the darkness.
Blind to the world bleeding before her.

The song in her ears.
The song in her ears is a pulse of metal;
Its refrain is a surge of crescendoing ire.
It cuts her senses like a knife.

The world ignored her.
But she ignored the world first.
She overreacted,
And strove to be the worst.
What went first,
And which went last
Is not a question;
It's a question of
What came first
And which came last:
The darkness
Or the loss of her youth
Is now in the past.

Categories: Poetry, WritingTags: , , , ,

shakespearian12

I'm a writer.

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