Of what’s within

there is a shadow, deep within
sometimes showing itself, against the paranoid light,
sometimes hiding, in the deep recess between insanity and sobriety,
but always there

shadows lengthen and eventually disappear,
leaving nothing in their wake but the quiet desperation that defines being,
a groan, from the depths of the hallow
signalling the coming of whats within.

head hung low, clawing at your traitor heart,
with the momentum of your existence dropping into the negative,
you better crawl away and recede within,
let the shadow take over without a fight,
we’ve been through this, since as long as memory exists
do not resist, lest you lose what is left:
vague definitions of how things should have been.

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