Tag Archives: poetry

I Know Better

And yes, I remember you.

Slinking through the corridors at night while no one was watching.

I saw you.

I knew you.

 

I remember the air in your veins breathing past my lips.

Filling every heartbeat until my teeth burned.

They didn’t know you had a secret.

Or where you went.

I knew you.

 

They say you don’t exist.

 

By Daphne Shadows

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Empty Tongues

Hushed footsteps
Is there such a thing?
The carpet could be screaming for all we know.
Our socks could be praying for mercy.

We act like everything is trying to silence us
We blame doors, padding, muzzles
Why bother?

It’s not like many are trying to speak up
Any longer
We have families, you see
People to hurt
Dreams to set ablaze

They have us quite choked on fear
Our volume turned to mute
Our choices turned to disregard
Don’t they?

They’ve taken our vocal cords
Buried them in the cellar
While they feast on Just Corpses

No one behind the curtain
No one soundproofing our eyes

But I bet that’s the carpet’s fault
Hushing our footsteps.

 

By Daphne Shadows

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Writerly Snapshots

I am so excited to announce that I am officially getting back into writing.

It has been much too long.

I am a storyteller and not writing has been quite painful.

The only thing that has kept me from imploding was writing this blog and poetry.

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When you know what your calling in life is – do it.

What is your calling?

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They Follow Me

There are these
Stilted Scarecrows
Jolting about
On corpse legs

Forcing their way
Into my line of
Vision
Throwing blood about
Beating on a drum

Funny
They choose not to notice
My silence

The past
Cannot be
Re-done
Re-spoken

Some wounds
Cannot heal
Until the
Scar tissue
Is erased
In another life

So desperate
For me to be
Sitting around
The fire
With you

But I remember
What those embers
Can do

I’ve collected
These Scarecrows
Though I’m really
Not certain how
Or why
They shamble around
In the dark
Just out of sight
Waiting to pounce
To stitch their bony joints
Into my hair

I’ve befriended
Murders of crows
I’ve decorated
My home
With them
Etched them
Into my bones

And yet
These Burning Eyed
Scarecrows
They find me

Clothed in dead skins
Sickles in their hands
Carved faces
Straw innards
They haunt
Ghoulish calls
Carrying clappers
And stones

They are my funeral march
Hurling perilously
Into the fires they create
Pinning me the patsy

I’ve collected
These Scarecrows
They keep hiding behind
Death masks

I do not belong
To them
But they claw
At my skin

Their past presence
Scarring my Sight

I belong to the ravens
I side with the crows

 

By Daphne shadows

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choose

emotion
is not a
Death
Sentence

i wish
i knew
how to
feel

without
going
Mad

 

By Daphne Shadows

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Never a Dragon, a Lotus, a Hero

 

To watch someone you love, suffer

That is the worst pain

To have ever known.

 

I have lived through abuses of every kind.

Horrors little children should never know

Memories I’d sell for bubble gum houses

and storybook bedtimes.

Pain that sears through my heart and mind,

Memories in my muscles I cry for

Physical scars,

Emotional scars,

Scar tissue growing stronger

and stronger.

 

But watching someone I love…

These tears hurt worse, somehow.

Somehow they burn

and twist

Until I can hardly breathe

And I loathe watching you go

Knowing you need help

But not knowing how

or what I can do.

 

I know you are strong.

I know you are the

bravest soul I’ve met

I know you can slay your own Princes

and befriend the Dragons lurking

deep inside and all around.

I know you don’t need me

for these things.

But I wish.

 

I wish I could keep the pain from you

I wish I could swipe it away with my tears

or my arms or my words

I wish I could absorb everything

and make life,

fair.

For you.

 

All I can do is hurt with you

Try to help

Understand

Be a shoulder, an ear.

Lend a hand.

But I know I cannot brandish your sword

for you

Not that you need me to.

Not that you aren’t stronger than me anyway.

 

I still wish.

It still hurts worse, somehow.

And yet, I know.

 

I know my scars

Brighten my lips when I know joy,

More brilliantly than if my skin was smooth,

Memory free.

Peace is only found when I

know it is so slippery a prize

after it was ripped away

and I stole it back, one drop of blood

at a time, one struggle at a time.

But I know peace, is the point.

I know joy.

I feel it until I am bursting.

 

I see so many others

sleepwalking.

That’s what pain does

shakes you up

awakens you to your awful state

state of misery or confusion

state of contentedness or settling.

Once awake I knew how to fight

even though I didn’t.

The pain ended up helping me

in a sick sort of way.

It showed me how to fight.

How to stand.

 

I know the horrors of my past

and they know me.

We laugh in the face of the horrors

Climbing through my windows,

Edging into my room

at night, trying to frighten me

with their newness and unknown.

I laugh because this scar tissue

Sees them for what they are.

They are whispers in the dark

Compared to the hideous trumpeting

of my past, my forever scarred words,

lashing into my skin with the blade of no knife.

These new nightmares are cotton candy

and daydreams I spot in the clouds

Compared to the devilish landscapes

lurking in my then.

I know that all that I have suffered

All I have hurt

It lost.

To me.

Without these villains

I never would have

Become.

 

And I know

Your tears will spill and leave.

Your fears will charge and back down.

Playing chicken with you will not work.

I know you will grow scar tissue of your own,

Small battles counting down the time

until they help you slay your next villain.

You will shout in silence

Sob into your pillow

Scream at every smothering glance.

You will find the words to stand your ground

Disperse the hordes that challenge your might.

 

Yes, you will hurt.

And I will hate every moment of it.

I will help you however I can.

I will stand witness to all the snares and wounds

failures and confusion.

I will hurt with you. I promise.

But I know.

You will win, too.

I know you don’t need me to fight these battles

for you

But I will always, always

be here with you.

I will gladly accept these lashings

if it means to stand by your side

As you suffer into Becoming.

 

I still wish you didn’t have to suffer.

It still hurts worse, somehow.

Worse than anything I can remember

suffering inside my own skin.

And yet, I know.

There was never a dragon, never a lotus, never a hero

without suffering to overcome.

 

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by Daphne Shadows

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Persephone Knows

This is a poem I wrote some time ago and published here in October of 2015. I’ve re-written it. I’d take the previous one down, but that feels ingenuine. I often take what I’ve made and rip it apart, before stitching it back together with different thread.

Since writing them, I’ve gone through many of poems and changed them. Without telling anyone. Just so you know. 😉

So without any further fuss
I give you –
Persephone Knows

 

My feet

They won’t walk right

My legs

They don’t shift light

My thoughts

So staggered

My sense

It’s shattered

No meter, no rhythm

Guess the lies never mattered


 

Beautiful how the truth can be.

Daringly sinister, you see.

The duality.

 

The beauty it can create.

Hearts it can incinerate.

 

Depending on the paintbrush

Using oils or lye

On which canvas

The why?

 

Even as the teardrops drip

And lips pout red

Something grows inside

As this truth is fed.

 

It’s really quite simple, darling.

Though that doesn’t make it easy.

It’s really not that hard.

Rather filled to empty.

 

Balances what’s inside me.

If I can’t be real

I can’t be free.

 

But now and then

I rummage and shuffle

Pretend I’m not me

Hide in this muzzle

 

Tips the scales and down I go

Falling until I hit bone and bow

 

When it comes to me,

Well, you see

Only hurt can smother the doubt

Always seem to take this route

 

So, I sit here and burn

Fight myself at every turn

Forget to breathe

Struggle and seethe

 

Scrape at the dead skin

Beg the truth not to win

Drowning in plastic again

 

I slam the windows

Barricade the door

But truth drags me by the feet

And I wash up on the shore

 

Drowning in flames

Dancing in the darkness

Shadows flickering

In duality’s likeness.

 

If only I’d remember

If only I’d learn

What always is salvaged.

Persephone knows

Death can be lovely

And flowers can be damaged.

 

If only I’d listen

I cannot hide pieces

And not be stricken.

 

The sun doesn’t always shine

The moon sometimes takes her time

I cannot smudge parts of my soul

And expect to live whole.

 

Truth cannot speak, only strike

Dormant matches in my chest

My beast never hides

Truth burns me best.

 

If only, if only

If only, I’d learn.

 

But always,

Always

I choose to burn.

 

by Daphne Shadows

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(this poem is disjointed instead of flowy, on purpose)

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