Shadows.

You say that I speak of (my) darkness too much.

With my heart stripped bare before your eyes,

I stand,

my shadows a gift for the

searching ones.

Don’t you know that light that shines too brightly,

blinds?

My gift.

Sometimes,

the only thing that I have to give to you,

is me.

Cracked and fragile;

pain oozing from dark places

that I can’t even see.

But, you do.

You see,

and you don’t flinch.

You catch me when I fall;

tenderly you bind me up;

stuff love in the holes,

and stop me from leaking out of

my memories.

How do you craft such a strong

net from

my brokenness?

I walked in shame, until.

I wore a lifetime of shame

before I finally realised,

that the poisoned refrain you sang over me,

was birthed from your own fractured dreams.

—I walked in shame, until.

This is how we heal.

Your story belongs to all of us.

Speak through the pain,

and lay bare the thing that would

strangle you.

Give words to your shame.

It is not yours to carry,

alone.

This is how we heal each other.

—This is how we heal.