Shadow

This shadow is fragile.  She cries easily.  Things didn’t turn out the way she hoped.  She turns pain into excess; she does damage.  She won’t apologize for biting and scratching.   She thinks about ending it, leaping from a ledge, driving into a wall.  She’s seductive, then profane.  She avoids your demands, won’t be held accountable, feels sick, can’t get out of bed.  Everything is difficult.  She’s weak, corrupt.  She tells lies.

You’ll close your eyes and think of her.   She’s been harmed; she asks you to witness everything that has happened, unashamed, but you flinch.  She sings with her whole heart and body. You’ve never done that.  Her kiss creates an ache.  She has loved you for real and for life.  She won’t conform, despises limitations, expects more than is given.  She has made art out of your garbage and handed it back to you. She sees injustice, calls it by name, won’t allow it.  She looks you in the eye.  You’ll have to be honest with her.