Shadow: Noun. A dark area or shape produced by a body coming between rays of light and a surface.
Let me make it expressly clear, first and foremost, that I do not hallucinate. I've looked it up. The clinical idea of what hallucinations are, that is. I do(more) not have hallucinations. I do not see things, per-say.
I do have a very real reason to fear the dark. You would too, if your shadows moved like mine.
The definition says that a shadow is a shape produced by an object blocking light from the surface. It follows that a shadow is the same basic shape of the object blocking the light.
It is. They are. Or at least they start out that way.
Moonlight seeps into the room through the gaping maw-like window, passing the closed curtain lips, leaking into my space and painting the wall in its bruised tones as the moon’s dull blue light clashes with the darkened shadows.
The light doesn’t change. The objects don’t move, but the shadow waivers as if it sat on a lake instead of a solid wall. Slowly it grows, creeping its way closer at a maddening pace. It taunts me, forcing me to question myself. Is it growing? Perhaps not.
Just as I decide the shadow is safe, it morphs. The shadow thickens and bends in impossible ways, forming a horrendous shape. It expands and reaches out with teeth and talons, clawing towards my face. I’m helpless to move, forced to watch in silence and endure.
I blink and it’s gone. The shadow behaves as the sunlight flutters past the curtains, lighting the room in a brilliant glow, giving it color and forcing its shape.
Trembling leaves remain, plastered against twisted silhouettes that solemnly bask in a cold, even layer of moonlight.
I almost knew you.
A soft breeze rakes its way through my hair, rattling the too-thin fabric draped loosely over shoulders.
The silence of the night is comforting, centering.
How(more) did it happen that we almost saw each other? How does it ever happen between people, when breath becomes entrancing and you're tempted to look for the source of the disturbance, look right into the heart of it.
How do shadows see?
Our hearts were fire, blanketed. Mine by a child's hope, yours by fear.
It feels like choking on something I never got to taste.
If I die soon, find this, read this, and know.
The moon is really shining now, that same, dull, radiant gleam. Like an all-encompassing smirk, captured and preserved. Captivating.
And the brighter that moon glows, the more vivid those shadows can see.
in the corner of her mind
there's a shadow on the wall
stretched, but timid, cowering in fear.
but too dark to really disappear
a stain in our perfect world.
(more) stoic, still, huddled down,
the shadow will not move
a memory of the distant past
silent for so long, but still around
he's one of the ones that'll last
to her adulthood
and we hate him for that
and we pity him for that
he won't come out to play with us,
(the other memories here,)
but soon she'll drag him out to light
and see what he once was
and then we will know this man
hidden in a corner
the secrets that he possesses
and the trials she's trying to forget(less)