No sunshine will touch my shadow any longer. They've agreed to keep their distance. Agreed to disagree on some critical matters. Not sure of their relative place in the universe as long as the other is present. I am told they are not willing to compromise on this matter. I've tried to help them find reason, bury the hatchet. Worked out the angles between tripping over myself in the darkened room or hiding my eyes from the burn.
It starts early. I'm dragged to darkness by my shadow. He has lost his sense of proportion. Does not know his strength any longer. Pulls me deeper into the corners of my bedroom. Hides me under another set of light-eating blankets.
Sunshine calls me, but my shadow slaps the phone out of my hand. I have to trust him. I have to stay the course. I must not feel the temptation for warmth. For the outside to let the breeze sneak up and gently hug me. For the sounds of birds to welcome me out into the world.
My shadow, he knows me better than I know myself. The sunshine, radiating off of the sidewalk, zeroing in on my pale frame, it is a destroyer of peace. A bringer of skin rash, scaled flesh, eventual cancers,
Here in the dark, I'm told I am safe, a proper temperature. I am contained. Controllable.
My shadow, locking me into an iron tether. We shall never know the world apart from one another.
I try to tell him, light will bond us. He reminds me that vision is not a bond. This, this proximity, under cover of multiple darknesses. Us, alone, held fast to one another and shaking, this is the only true connection. Everything else is a sleight of hand and a trick of vision. Illusory. Disguises not fit for truth.
And here we are, in silence, and I just want to sneak a gaze out the tinted window, to see what might be outside.
If only I’d let me.
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