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The Shadow

   

The Shadow

 

It’s there. It’s always there. That need, that loss, that yearn for something, anything, everything, to help, to ease the pain, to snuff out the suffering, to leave me perfect, jejune, untouchable, safe, from everything, anything, anyone, like a porcelain doll an artist found captivating, so he kept it in a curio cabinet, filled with all the other tchotchkes, waiting, for someone to look at them, perhaps to even be handled, gently, softly, cooing with every movement, every shift of a digit to balance my weight subtly, perfectly, even beautifully. The stagnant stasis of perfection, soothing me, smoothing me of any error, wrinkle, dimple, just long enough so that I can receive love.

 

Hell thrives in words, doesn’t it?

 

  

Nicole Bird

 

Nicole's career began with a degree in Creative Writing. Her focus then shifted to garnering degrees in Film Production and Screenwriting. Afterwards, Nicole worked in film, while writing and producing her own short films. Now, Nicole works as a Creative Writing professor and is currently at work on a collection of poetry, as well as honing her gluten free baking skills developed during the 2020 quarantine.

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1 Comments

  1. i have asked in the past for more prose poems. they are my thing. this one is fantastic with a semi-bleak outlook full of poetry and grace. Grace is not the absence of bleakness just means you have the class to handle it.

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