a shadow without a person

Irises Theme - Sophie Thatcher

when u grow up

as a shell of a person

blended from the various sheddings

of those who raised you

u mistake the empty, hollow inside

for the soul of a girl

u only knew

thru the conversations at the dinner table

and the narration from a home video.

.

that shell

took the form of a void:

a depth that rejects light

and anything that highlights within.

it’s mistaken as a hole—

not a light peering thru the fogginess

from someone no one’s ever met—

not even the light itself.

.

that shell

stretches and thins

flattening itself

with the scorching view

of our loved ones perceiving

making a form of a shadow

chasing after its person.

.

a chase

where the shadow tries to find

the person they’re told they reflect

and follow behind

hoping to one day

catch up to them

and be them

since they are loved

more than their shadow

.

but instead of chasing linear

a shadow following their person

is like a dog chasing it’s own tail

or a snake eating it’s latter half.

.

my shadow chased high and low

looking for a girl called Worthy

who deserved the love

and not the pain that came with it.

.

my shadow scaled the walls

of my childhood home,

the bathroom stalls,

rooms where my voice is muted at every word, every scream

to a yes

to any ear near.

.

i would feel her presence—

sometimes near,

almost touching.

other times

she was on the moon,

sitting on a bench,

looking down at the planet

covered by half a shadow

chasing it’s lighter half.

.

‘cause in the day,

you can see your loved ones

under an opened eye

and a blinking mind—

a mind that would close and open

throughout the day,

allowing the body to see

while keeping the soul hydrated.

.

that man and woman,

halves of me, sometimes strangers,

would sit on that bench and watch

the forever chase—

a shadow chasing it’s light.

.

up there,

I would ask,

“do you think the shadow knows

that light is not it’s constant?

that without the sun

the shadow would be all that remains,

making them the default,

the core,

rather than the light?”

.

so when i was back in those rooms

a shadow, chasing it’s lighter half,

i would think on that—

about how i was chasing

a part of me

that wouldn’t exist

if it weren’t for the source

of judgemental eyes

from my loved ones—

.

as if they were projecting

the image of a girl

into view

in the darkness of the home

they built around us.

.

telling us that she is me,

more me than i was,

and i should live under their light

as a projection

rather than feeding off the light

i have naturally, from within.

.

when i realized my true light

was not from their eyes, sent from their mouths,

i started to flame it—

blow on it gently,

all too quiet

whenever no one was looking.

.

i’d cup it with my hands,

feeding it with the boil of rage in my gut,

all too gently,

little by little over time,

until i had a functioning fire

for my soul’s light.

.

and in the protruding walls

i put up in my mind,

with footmen for ties on my tongue,

that fire, that flame,

was kept secret

from all that lived outside of it.

.

there i let my versions of myself

heat up some tea

and sit by the fire

in the fortress of my safety

talking quietly and lowly with one another

so the monster outside it’s walls

wouldn’t hear.

.

occasionally my parents would see this light flicker

and try to stomp on it.

if the fire didn’t go out

and sizzle deathly below their feet,

they’d keep going

until it was gone.

.

so i learned to fake a dying flame,

in the way my shoulders slouched

and eyes drooped disappointedly

in defeat,

in victory.

.

there i would find rest

and a break

from the war between the Out and In

.

my parents used to tell us repeatedly

about the old fable of the bible:

the basket over a light

being useless.

.

but that light they wanted us to shine

was artificial.

it wasn’t a flame

made organically.

it was built over time

designed by old men

with intentions not meant for the good of others.

.

so, to keep the monsters away from the walls,

i would line the outside with artificial lights—

partly to warn and prepare those living inside,

and the other to give off the impression

that the inside was also lit artificially.

.

but they never could have guessed

that we only used lamps

and fires flamed by purpose and plan of retreat

from a girl that grew up

and became a woman with eyes opened

to a world living in shadow.

.

i stopped chasing my tail,

finding the light elsewhere

and instead looked within.

.

there i found a light source

more authentic

and brighter

than anything i’ve seen.

.

and all that lived within me

made sure that flame kept going

no matter the weather sent within

from the storms of the outside.

.

i protected that flame like it was my baby—

my inner child laughing and running around between the fire’s embers.

.

i let her play

i let her sit

i let her rage

.

until one fateful day

where i deemed her ready

to spread outside the walls in my mind

.

and once she step foot

the world watching

the reality of a bigger monster

being born within the walls

in secret

started to sink in

for those whose hobby was to taunt my walls

and kick them

out of rage

not meant for me.

.

she spread like wildfire

leaving marks wherever she flamed—

a promise, a symbol,

the mark of Rage

kissed by Revenge

doused in Spite

to eventually be extinguished

by the tears that were never shed

.

and take the walk of Pride

back to the walls

that birthed a motherless child

.

my shadow

never found its person—

the projection of light

in which i was told

the shadow merely reflected

in worthiness

love

and purpose

.

but the paths i was pushed to take

to find her

never felt right to me

because they weren’t meant for me.

.

my shadow found the girl

that lived in Light—

the one they follow

in holy worship

reflecting head to toe

every movement

and step made towards Purpose

.

but she wasn’t anyone

that was familiar—

in fact, she wasn’t me at all.

.

her mouth was tied and clamped shut

as if to keep something from escaping.

.

her eyes rarely blinked

afraid to stay too long

in the darkness of the eyelids

.

her ears were hard of hearing

yet she didn’t wear any aids

because she would rather hear silence

than the reality of chaos

that was bustling around her

.

she wasn’t someone i looked up to

after days of finally finding her

and shadowing her in relief

no longer searching.

.

she wasn’t me at all.

the only part that was me

in that lifeless robot

programmed to keep going forward

no matter the circumstances

.

was the tears welling up in the eyes

no one saw

when she smiled but didn’t mean it

and spoke and did not believe it.

.

i was a shadow

looking for my person

and when i found her

she was only a projection of my parents—

their love and expectation

thrown at a lifeless robot

programmed to do nothing for the self

and please everyone involved

in her creation

.

i let the projection of the girl

wear my skin

take me about the day

in fascade

to protect the real girl within.

.

she was the sole protector

of the flame within the walls—

she fought tooth and nail

for the girl born in the embers

of fated self love

.

to eventually lead to the ultimate martyr—

a sacrifice

of skin shed

in the battle against all i knew

and all i loved.

.

that girl is now honored

in the cornerstone

of the foundation built

on the ruins of rage

and the dried up rivers of pain

.

a tombstone

a foundation

a reminder

that while she was more loved

than the girl within

she played part

in the birth of me

and who she came to be

.

a shadow

becoming whole

taking on the three dimensions

to be a figure

that holds light

within and without

.

my shadow

now a person

looking down at her own shadow

following her every step

but no longer chasing—

.

she is the reincarnated soul

of the martyr of the girl that was loved

and she follows behind me, silently,

watching my back

and beaming in pride

as i walk into the darkness of the unknown

with nothing but

a strong strive for change

and the coveted light shining within

called Truth