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written by: TM DiSarro


performed by: B. Madison



Shadows of loss with far reaching hands always grasping and clutching and clasping. Dragging you back to a place you can't stand, holding you fast to a point you can't move, knocking you down to perpetual heartache, leaving you drained, impartial, impatient.

Shadows of loss like a thick heavy blanket, oppressive in nature, like wool against skin, weighing you down and crushing ambition, silently suffocating joy you might feel, stifling choices and breeding confusion, creating the distance from living to dying, anger to laughter, helping or hurting.

Shadows like claws reaching out of the darkness, like knife fingers digging at walls that surround you, like finger nails scratching at flesh colored armor, keeping you anxiously scared and indifferent. Shadows of loss keep you backwards in time, when you should be moving cautiously forward, instead of reluctantly moving in circles, moving away from the people who love you, never in focus and never on target and never inspired to live in the moment.

Shadows of loss like tire prints in asphalt and roads leading nowhere, like picking up strangers like lovers like hitchhikers, letting them travel along a few miles and then dropping them off on the side of the road, then they're gone much too soon, then your losing again, then your lost again and you never knowing why.

Shadows of loss lead to shadows of doubt and a past just like dragons breath burning your future to a soft pile of ashes, dragging you back with its hot scaly tail, weighing you down like your wearing lead shoes, like sand showers falling from black nightmare skies, memory grains of sharp lava sand, catching them up in your big bucket brain full to overflowing.

Shadows of loss always clouding your thoughts just like hot August summers crush with sweltering heat, holding you back like ancient memories, like oil, like clay, like volatile gas from fast running cars that crash into cars, cars that may kill, like love speeding past, like life passing on, like laws of attraction turn to distraction and then to detraction. Shadows of loss like wrinkled green money memories compounded with interest, interest in everything, interest in nothing, interesting nothing.

Shadows of loss on sunburning days so persistent, antagonizing and unrelenting. Bearing down on your skin, on your head, on your mind. No escape or relief from the pressure of heat. Bright yellow sun like an eye in the sky split into hundreds of moments and countless rays of pain. Sun beams like eyes that follow you everywhere, into the water, into cars, under covers, into darkness, into bedrooms, following always following.

Shadows of loss like big rusty chains in your brain, like memory links intertwined, like vines, like weeds, like shackles on your feet, tripping you up, keeping you captive, incapable of feeling and unprepared, unresponsive, unreliable.

Shadows of loss relentless and exacting, impressive, like darkest heavy metal dreams, link upon stinking link, one stuck to the other like glue just like glue, chain smoking choking on words. Words like secret, like silence, like violence and threat, stuck in your throat like tiny black fish bones, stuck in your head like a song you can't sing, a song that scares you. Weaving memory by memory by memory, like a sticky web of fear catching the future like a bug as spider memories suck it dry to dust and burn it to ashes.

Shadows of loss drowning in a sea of memory, searching for someone to rescue you, to pull you up and out of a miserable existence, to guide you and to be a current of calm. Shadows of loss pushing you deeper, holding you under, holding your breath, trying to be quiet, constantly fighting against the weight of water, fighting against the weight of memory, wave upon wave, fighting against the rage of oceans, drowning in a sea of memory older than your small world. If only that the water could be so sweet and so clear and not sting my eyes, not stinging my thoughts with the salt of tears, salt of fears, salt of nightmares stinging open wounds that never heal.

All loss is a shadow. A shadow of death. A shadow of innocence. A shadow of love. The greatest shadow overshadows all the rest like a steady drip by drip of water on your head. Water that turns into words that echo and taunt and find a path into your brain creating a stream inside your mind eventually cursing through your veins like poison in the form of an old friend.

Where is water to run over me like crystal clear rain, like showers of perfect emerald thought, pure in comfort and clarity. Waters of thought I can drink down and let wash over me, cleanse me of all my shame, wasted time, wasted dreams, wasted relationships. It would fill me and surround me, carry me along in shining arms or in ships like loving hands.

Shadows of loss still reaching, always clutching, greedily grabbing, clasping and lusting like a bony hand with smooth fingers, winks and sly smiles. Wrapped around your wrist, around your ankles, always in the peripheral vision of your mind, holding you back, dragging you down, taking you by the hand to secret places.

Shadows of loss like arms outstretched in blackest space where I can't see my hands in front of my face, but your hands are always there, out of place, out of step out of body and out of mind.

Shadows of love lead to shadows of doubt, shadows reaching from the past to the present holding you back from your future of ashes.


© 2016 TM DiSarro / Mindscapes Publishing

TM DiSarro

TM DiSarro

I do not consider myself a writer but I love to write. Neither a poet but I love poetry. I steal bits and pieces of time to scratch out ideas on note books, laptops and cell phones. I live and work in Florida fabricating custom canvas and other fabric products and sometimes costumes.
TM DiSarro

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