It’s hard to ponder, hopeful days turned to fearful nights

Fears created by childish fantasies from stories told by those most trusted

What goes bump in the night is a reprieve, when real monsters stand before you

A childhood guarding doors from those who break the world

Littles protecting littles with plushy camouflage, silly to reminisce

Unseen innocence concealed under the refuge of best of friends

Hidden is the truth, right infront of everyone’s eyes

Left to the wolves who devour sanctuaries, spitting out the bones

Ghosts do not haunt, but are always a welcomed besiege during times of personal trials

Carried over from juvenility paving the future with doubt

Yet, here is the narrative of real monsters stalking not just the blackest of nights

But also the brightest of vulnerable days

My Abecedarian Shadow Poem

Autumn shadows are a welcomed refuge, early in season

But come late October shadows are avoided, and for good reasons

Cold winter days creep, making shadows much more chilling

Darkness falls earlier and shadows give in to white nights, unwilling

Eventually the bright white fades to dull grays and shadows freely rule

Fear not, the shadows reign is temporary, though at times they can be cruel

Gearing up for spring can be a battle, when shadows fight for life

Hope, like the sun, rises with every petals bloom, shadows become contrite

Irises, daffodils, tulips revel in the shadows of summer guarding against wilt

Jasmine and roses thrive in or out, shadows are without guilt

Kites fly high with color, casting funny shadows on the ground

Laughter from children fills the air when’s silly shadows bounce up and down

Matched are July afternoon shadows, with lovers for perfect picnics

Night hides the shadows, time to light the candles wick

Overexagerated shadows are cast, for dancing flames

Perfect waltzing shadows projecting playful games

Quickly befalls to the sandman, who the shadow will always obey

Running from your shadow is always a good time to play

Sleeping and dreaming or not, fun shadow play is fine, and too be honest, it’s about time

Time teases a shadow, for it’s a temporary thing

Unlike the Robin’s shadow, time flies with out wings

Vivid memories of summers welcomed shadows, once again falls to autumn

Winter will grant shadow filled skies, with leaves left at the bottom

Xanthein is no where to befound as cold winter shadows prevent color

Yellow, a color favorited among me, shadows not so much bother

Zero shadows on the brightest or dullest days, have no reason to begrudge

This is my first abecedarian shadow poem, so please be kind when it’s time to judge.

Seemingly Absurd

I want to wish upon a star and wish it all away

Angst turns into sorrow,

so much so it’s next to pain

Do the stars even listen anymore?

Or care?

Voices get lost in the darkness,

I just want to be ok

Please prove me wrong

In ernst,

begging for it

Fighting for life,

but not to live


Is the answer to simply give up?

Perhaps sometimes

There is no magical hand pulling from the desperate void

Only an all engulfing blanket of darkness so heavy it’s even to breath

The force of infliction is the premise of it all,

without explanations

Wishing upon a star simply is not worth my time and most definitely not the effort

So I’ll remain buried alive in nothing,

yet crushed by everything

as if it matters

Comparison is inconsequential

as suffocation causes temporary interruptions,

sanity flees

Irrational thoughts take over then become actions

Actions that thwart efforts mistaken as good intentions

Turning to dread

To Breathe Again

Mortal heartbreak is unbearable,

yet the era does fade, 

though scars remain as a bias reminder of the cruelest fate

Letting go,

moving on,

isn’t forgeting,

though at times a blank slate would be preferable

The loss of memory is most welcomed during the darkest of times

And yet,

forgiveness of those trustpassess eventually overshadows the grief that once suffocated

Light is brighter, sounds somehow cleaner, and the pins and needles eventually turn into feeling normal,

and breathing is no longer a chore