Pages

Friday, March 10

Shadow

Shadow Writing
I hear a voice on the wind. A mere whisper that ebbs and flows, the harder I listen for it the further it recedes into the darkness of night's chaos. And so I ask, did you need me? I feel you there, your hand pulling at mine. Urging me into some response.

But when I do you run.

Do you fear me? Do you think there is some 'thing' I would have of you that you simply cannot part with? I guess this is true. There is some part of you that I would have. I would have it and never give it back. And I can promise you this, once had, you would never be able to be un-had. That part of you I would own. Unsatisfied with another - she of that weak embrace and mewling whine, that pillar of false virtue and strength that crumbles without constant reassurance.

I need no reassurance.
I am sure.
You have shown me time and again that you need me to see you. Your tugging at me to get my attention, negative or positive, it matters not, as long as I have looked and you know I have. And then you melt away again, a shadow that steps back into the night, only to re-appear in another form, another shape.

I see you there. I do.
And I am waiting.
Waiting for you to step fully into the light and make your demands. Tell me what it is that you need of me.