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ME AND THE SHADOW

ME AND THE SHADOW

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WpMetadataReadComplete Mon, Feb 15, 2016<5 mins
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Poetry
It was a concave moon And i saw a lonely soul Resting at its tip alone The picture was so beautiful Only the shadow of the soul was visible In the radiative light and it did resonated So my soul inclined to have a conversation if possible I glided towards him drifting through the cotton clouds as it was fated. The fluxes caused clouds parting and got the soul's attention It screamed with abhor and sucked Me in, the gravity was determined I could only hold to floppy clouds that never even could gift a friction. The fear proved that it was non another than a beast yes it revealed I was imbibed completely in to him and melted and felt his rapture Enjoyed the taciturn of moon clouds and of stars that is cohabiting But am propelled to look down and sight of earth was captured The peace i gained shrinked and started to taste the averse I slowly felt control over the beast so i took the dive down The wind starte
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Release

This is a collection of my writing from the past 7 years. Before I started to write, I was a very lost individual, as are most teens, but I was lost in darkness. I was too afraid to move anywhere at all. I hid in the dark, debilitated by my own anxiety, sadnesses, anger, and hopelessness. I was desperate to be loved and feared it the most, I was a coward, I was self-destructive, I would mentally bend my thoughts to the point of bordering insanity. I was born into this world alone, and got too comfortable with it. Maybe I still am, but a fraction of what I used to be. This writing is extremely vulnerable, and potentially disturbing to others, as all my weaknesses, strengths, obsessions with making every moment sentimental, the sickening desperation I've had, the destructiveness, and the constant brutal reconstruction of my mind. Without guidance, it's been absolute intense chaos. Though, there is beauty in the darkness. Everything can be found in the darkness. You'll find that through my writing, I've somehow slowly become exactly what I've written. A living representation of my writing and what I wanted to be. Without myself even knowing it. A lot of my writing themes are based around nature, or some kind of natural aspect. The imagery I paint with natural metaphors is constant, the animals, just like you and I, the plants, and all other living things. I planted these seeds in my mind, unknowingly at the time, where I now feel the deep dark green jungle pressing at the inner walls of my skull. It's all that I want to consume my mind. There's so much to learn. The magic of nature, and it's infinite wisdom. It's as if I have been on this path all along, and I didn't even know what I was doing, yet my body and mind were passively taking care of me. Giving me and eventually showing exactly what I want, and wanted to become. I have every moment, every instance of suffering, and every epiphany to be thankful for. Soon, I'll be at peace from the raging storm.

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