“Shadow.”

This poem may sound loose and jangly, but it’s actually based on a recent experience of anxiety.

Beyond that, I’m gonna let this one speak for itself.

—

Shadow

Sometimes, the shadow’s close to me

When I lie down at night;

I scream aloud, and toss my sheets,

And flail around in fright.

More often, I’ll sit very still,

Sing quietly, or pray;

Art helps me navigate the dark,

And chases ghosts away.

I’ll listen to Depeche Mode,

Or the smoother Radiohead,

As I use my slow cooker

Or (quite often) shave my head…

At other times, I’ll play U2,

Or get down to the Stones,

As Hebrew spirits hear my cries

And make sense of my groans.

Some days, it’s difficult to move,

And breath’s hard to attain.

I weep, and write out how I feel,

Till I can feel the pain.

I stretch, or lift my dumbbells, till

I’m focused on the day;

My senses reassert themselves…

And sometimes, I’m okay…

And even though, sometimes, I weep

And stare into my shoes,

I know at some point, reds and greens

Will overtake my blues.

And often, I’ll lie down in peace

Because deep inside me

There are bright voices full of love

That speak integrity.