Tag Archives: darkness

Hourglass

I am feeling quiet inside today.

As if a peacefulness has unrolled its yoga mat inside me and got to work.

It’s a calmness.

A beauty.

 

It allows me to remember all the sweetness, while acknowledging the scars.

Remember, just because there is darkness inside of you, doesn’t mean that darkness is all you have to offer to the world.

Darkness can teach us.

We grow stronger.

 

Scars are a sign of strength.

Darkness is a way for us to strengthen.

Aren’t scars kind of beautiful?

 

There’s also a pain inside my chest.

It keeps speaking up.

I’m okay with it.

The pain isn’t all there is, inside me.

 

By Daphne Shadows

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Filed under Not that Kind of Poetry

Doubt. Hesitate. Hope.

A lot of the time I doubt that I have anything positive to bring to the blogging world. Or the world at all. I feel like all I have to talk about are depressing things. That I’ll bring people down. Dampen the mood. That I’m such a sulking hulk of depressing ooze and slobbery emotional muck.

But I’m slowly realizing that that’s not true at all.

It’s the same with the stories I tell. The stories that have come to me since I was a child.

My experiences have been dark and painful, yet I’m filled with hope. My stories aren’t of pain and loss and depressing failure. They’re about pain and loss and survival, hope leading to thriving.

I struggle daily with issues. Things that will never go away, memories that will always haunt. Health issues which will never give me peace. I struggle with anxiety and depression.

But I am not a lost cause.

I am finding peace and harmony, carving out my own love and passion. I’m finding a way to live my own life, building experiences filled with optimism and happiness.

 

 

A lot of the time I hesitate to speak up. To add my voice, my truths, to the world around me.

But the darkness in me is what has given me strength to rise, to fight my way up to the light.

The pain inside me allows peace and happiness to blossom into something glorious and infinite. Because I cry, the realization that my smile is genuine and filled with true joy is so much sweeter. Learning to simply breathe and enjoy my days and nights is a testament to the despair I’ve fought my way out of.

Emotional scars do not brand me. They show me as a survivor. Strong. Capable.

Ready to live.

 

There’s a phrase I’ve heard recently which I love.

“Doubt your doubts before you doubt your faith.” – Dieter F. Uchtdorf

Believe in yourself. 😉

 

 

This was a combination of WordPress daily prompts. I combined the first two prompts of March. “Doubt” and “Hesitate”.

I don’t think these things out. I go with what pings in my mind first.

What comes to your mind when you think of “doubt” or “hesitate”?

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Halloween / Samhain

STOP.

Stand still.

Breathe.

This is a time between times.

The space between the exhale and the next inhale.

The moments in between the ending year and the coming year.

 

JUST.

STOP.

 

Where are you?

Right now?

Physically.

Mentally.

Spiritually.

Metaphorically.

What do you feel?

Physically?

Emotionally?

 

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What do you need to let go of?

Old habits, addictions, or anything negative?

What do you need to finish?

What do you want to begin?

What changes do you want in your life, yourself, in your relationships?

 

Accept change.

It is forever.

Always.

 

Leave your mistakes and regrets behind you.

Prepare to change into the person you want to become.

 

What is going on in your life or within yourself that you do not want to look at?

Stop hiding, stop denying, and look.

 

JUST.

STOP.

 

Stop moving.

Stop going.

Stop doing, doing, doing.

Stop ignoring life.

Stop denying what’s inside (or outside) of you.

 

Now is the time to take a look at the darker side of things.

Those things which you keep stuffed in the crevices, behind the door, under the rug, in the box in your chest that you never even poke at.

Accept that there is darkness.

Celebrate the goodness in your life, in yourself.

 

Samhain. Halloween. Fall.

Regardless of what you call it.

It’s a time to stand still.

A time to see, to experience, to be mindful.

Be present.

A time to be.

 

Happy October everyone!

I love Fall! Favorite season. 😀

Do you guys enjoy Halloween/Samhain/Fall? If so, what’s one of your favorite things?

 

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For more information on Samhain, click here.

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Filed under The Odd Bit

Haze

 

The dark is danger

But the bright lights lie to us

And down we all fall

 

 

by Daphne Shadows

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Filed under Not that Kind of Poetry

Scavenger

I saw a movie recently. I’m not going to tell you which movie, as that has nothing to do with this post. What does have something to do with this post, is that the main character was a scavenger and every time someone commented on that, they used the word ‘scavenger’ as if it were dirty (the despicable kind of dirty). As if she went about eating people’s unborn babies, ripping them right out of pregnant ladies’ wombs.

This struck me as odd as I sat there in the dark and watched the movie. (and stuffed my face full of nachos)

Yes, there are bad scavengers. But just like everything else on planet earth, I think there are good scavengers.

I think, as usual, we only see it in a gross light.

I have a healthy respect for some sorts of scavengers. I see them in a different light. I suppose I see the word as defined differently too then.

 

Sometimes scavengers are the only ones who survived the abuse, the chaos, the pain, the wars. Plucking almost rotted food and lost hopes from the fingers of corpses as they make their way down the deserted roads, cloaked in darkness of night and certainty that something, somewhere, at some time is going to turn their life around. Or rather, they’re going to be there at the right time and change their lives themselves.

I see scavengers as sometimes empty and simply trying to survive.

I see creatures that feed off dried blood and who have ebony wings and pluck at dead people’s eyes before flying off, cawing at whoever gets close.

 

I am a horror and fantasy writer.

And I live in a different world than a lot of others around me, I’m finding.

It gives me something a little darker and something a little brighter. And that has nothing to do with being a writer.

 

I see a scavenger as the forgotten, the lost, those who walk along the rims of awareness, barely there to most. They live in fear of death, they live in fear of life.

Someone left to themselves, fumbling in the dark with no memory, tugging at the strands of fate, begging their own soul to shake lose something of use.

I feel like a scavenger. Picking at the pieces of a life I could have but hold myself back from.

Because…

Because it takes a while for your eyes to adjust to the light after you’ve lived in darkness.

 

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Mirrors

Do you ever feel like you’ve walked into a room filled with mirrors, from ceiling to floor, wall to wall?

It’s dark, nothing else is visible.

Like a dream.

Fog, mist… its crawling through the room in a muted charade. Keeping you ever in the dark. The very room you’re standing in, feet from the wall, close enough to touch, and yet you can’t see what’s there.

Only the  mirrors.

Just the mirrors.

Always the mirrors.

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If Only

 

It’s beautiful how the truth can be, isn’t it.

Pretty ugly too.

I think it’s the duality, the beauty it creates.

Depending on the paintbrush.

Depending on the canvas.

On the ‘why’.

 

Even as the tear drops drip,

And lips pout red,

Something grows inside,

As truth is fed.

 

It’s really quite simple.

But that doesn’t make it easy.

It’s really not that hard…

Once you’ve learned how to see.

 

I’m actually quite balanced, in reality.

It’s only once I hide the darker sides of me.

Space constricts, the soul burns.

And it turns out, it must hurt before it learns.

 

The rest takes over.

It amplifies don’t you see.

It stretches, laughs into the void.

As it rises, grows overtop all of me.

 

But the truth can’t hate it.

Not even as I drown.

Truth can only be.

Truth can only burn.

 

The darkness is salvageable even as is hides.

A shadow can’t survive, can’t breathe.

Not without the light in the dark.

And so I’m lost.

Swimming in absolutes and falsities.

 

If only I’d learn to listen.

If only I’d gather myself whole.

 

I’m not completely barren,

I’m not left to rot.

 

But the truth can’t speak.

It can only burn.

 

If only, if only

If only, I’d learn.

 

by Daphne Shadows

 

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Filed under Not that Kind of Poetry