Her Light was a gentler thing
Moments of lilac calmness and sunshine in one
Soft brushstrokes laid on creamy white canvas
Melted butter on honeyed steamed buns

Quietly, it would come in the hushed stillness of morning
Creep gently and fold over her skin
She let it sweep across her like velvet water
Until her Light was able to cave in

Through bruised holes of mangled skin pores
Past the dark spots her Shadow had made
Via blackened veins and tarred tissue
Life and Vitality ****** from blood where her Shadow was laid

With her Light, came hope unknown
Like a candle burning weakly inside her chest
And although it struggled against the veil of dark
it was there inside her nonetheless

Her Shadow dreaded when her Light visited
It sulked in a pile and curled itself into a speck 
"Get It out, Girl," It would moan to her in pained agony,
"Its presence will make me a wreck."

But the girl, though she did not say it, loved her Light
And so welcomed It into her eagerly
Despite urgent protests from her weakened Shadow
who fed on what darkness was left thirstily 

And gradually, her Shadow could feel its time dwindling
as her Light began to etch itself deep
and the golden path of the Light was strengthened
by the glowing warmth the girl's lover seeped

Thus her Light would find her insides most fitting
near this heat of the girl's sweet lover
Strong enough to wrap her in and envelop her
and warm the icy crevices left by her Shadow's shady cover

Yet her Shadow despised the boy and his kindling warmth
that acted like a bright magnet for her Light
and so devised a malignant plan on its own
when her Light was gone and out of sight

It resolved to inject itself into the boy
and darken his insides as well
Take what life and Light his pure body had stored 
and rid him of his internal heat shell

It lept from out of the girl's skin
and planted itself tightly in his flesh
It festered deep in the ventricles of his heart for several days
traveled through organs as permeable as mesh

And soon his insides turned frigid
as his heat could not withstand the dark
His once-tender frame hardened into a rough stone
His touch, so smooth, now felt like bark

The girl, whose temperament had improved
after her Shadow abandoned her lightened body,
saw in her lover the same glint in his darkened eyes 
as the ones that used to belong to she 

She found he no longer had any warmth to give
Worse, he recoiled from her kind-intentioned touch
Her lover was as loveless as her evil Shadow
which she now hated very much

And how she cried and wept for his poor, helpless soul
As she knew the Shadow may not leave
Until he decided (with a gun) to end the Shadow's stay on his own
and left her alone to grieve

Perhaps this is how the story ends
But in time, maybe it will be
that the shadowed boy still has some Light of his own
and with effort, it will heal his body.

I think he's missing
Or hiding from me
I search for him endlessly
underneath bed frames and tables
closets and cupboards
and behind the folds of my long, cotton curtains.
"Please come out for me," I beg,
"I long to see you,
I long to speak to you,
I long to touch you."

It seems he doesn't hear me
or doesn't want to.
Can't he sense my yearning and desperation?

She took a moment to pause and ponder
one lonesome, dreary night
the consequences of her untimely death
that would end a hidden plight

One that had interlaced itself in her a while ago
that she had forced to silence and lull
but that enlivens itself at times like these
when she is feeling awfully dull

And so the shadow had visited her again that somber night
and in her, it forced her to see
the careful steps to her self-planned death
had she chosen to agree

It asked her, "Do you believe anyone would care?"
and to that she murmured, "Maybe."
In her head appeared images of remorseful Facebook posts
like those sent to a deceased boy in the same class as she

"But the frequency of those posts would decline," it said,
"as the topic of your death no longer became a care.
No one would mourn for your soul anymore,
and no one would shed a tear."

"Your friends will move on with their lives in time,
your family will eventually cope.
Your lover will find another love,
one not filled with forlorn hope."

"So take that thick rope into your hand," it urged,
"or those colorful pills in the bathroom drawer
and if you do it correctly and succeed
perhaps you'll be found dead on the carpet floor."

This shadow, while it still talked like an eager villain
no longer made a sound
She found she could quiet its menacing voice
with faint memories of happiness that she found

Of sunlight after a burst of rainfall
the woodsy scent of a winter breeze
morning grass speckled with dew
long streets in the fall adorned with golden leaves

Of family dinners gathered around the table
witty remarks and laughter shared with friends
quiet moments spent with her dearest, her lover
and his warm clasp around her hands

This shadow looked on in disgust
and bid her a sour farewell
as it shrunk itself in her yet again
and her dismal unease quelled.

he grabbed shards of my skin
bone fragments scattered throughout the grass
leftover scraps of intestines and various other guts
the wiry strands of my veins
my faintly-beating heart

sitting cross-legged along the bank of the river
stringing me back together with superglue and ligaments
warmth and contentment

My dearest,
you are welcome
to make a home underneath my skin
to thread yourself between my tissues
and seep your life into my cells.

My dearest,
you are welcome
to implant the embodiment of your soul
to let it trickle into my bloodstream
and infect the remotest regions of my body.

My dearest,
you are welcome
to furnish my dull insides well
to dishevel my inner organs
and to feed it with your vital fluid.

My dearest,
you are welcome
to make your home underneath my skin
to stitch yourself in permanently
and to live in me indefinitely.

Go on, leap gallantly through the flames
The ring of fire threatens to sear your skin
It taunts you, the faces in the conflagration contorted
Fiery tongues outstretched, broiling cheeks pulled back in mockery
Flaming fingers quivering, laughing at your hesitation
Oh, how very tempted you are to leap through the flames!

In time, Honor outranks common sense
And as you pace in thought, Dignity outranks precaution
And then you fly through the ring, a determined little engine (who thought he could)
to a very toasty, elegant death (but in this case, you miserably failed).

Oh, how I dread this time of day
when the ghosts have crawled back into their crevices
and the immortals that **** blood fall asleep
and the gremlins that eat little children again wait underneath their beds
and I, my poor adolescent soul,
must force myself awake and head for school.