Shadows

[poetgirl925]

Shadows

We used to be different.
You were drawn to my ideology
and I to your strong character.
Polar opposites? Yes, but we
both felt the pull, that energy
of a question that found answers.

You grounded me when I floated
too far. I helped you fly, and
we laughed so much I could cry
because in silence, I can’t recall
the sound of our happiness.
When I say I’m happy? It’s a lie.

Too often I’m still; our shadows
lengthen until they suck the
warmth from the air and me.
They are specters, fiercest
where they meet the dawn;
I cling too much to your reality.

So I stand up. I choose myself
even when grey words trip off
your tongue and leave a scar.
My eyes are stars, and bright;
you with your ghost eyes need me,
but I am weary of the art of war.

A.L. Weaver