Shadows (in progress)

'The shadows we throw are
the shadows we try to throw off'.

We paint our history in black
and white. We leave alone
what our pasts should lack.

We leave behind the shadows,
blocking the light. Sometimes
at the end of the day the darkness
we left covered a whole field.

The sun warms our faces as
we look forward. Forget what's
behind. I know someone who lives in
the shadows. The cold darkness
you throw off.

You may forget those years.
But I don't. And, God save you,
One day you may catch a shadow
and look back.

The Thief, Time

There's more time to feel
when you're fifteen.
Hair between fingers,
thighs under tables but
most of all, words.

I miss feeling the words
of a song reach
into my chest
and pull it, beating, out
to the stark evening air.

The freshness of a lyric,
the cool, crisp cut
of poetic pain.
The emphatic euphoria
of teenage joy,
caught, picked and
wrapped in four words.

Responsibility, pressure and
the thief, time,
take the words and
the breath
and leave us
unable to express