A sequel to Power Outage

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I stumble and fall, onto

the soft and comfy bed.

What is that shadow in the corner?

Watching me so?

Not the dog nor mom.

Close my eyes and shiver, 

but not from the cold.

For who was the man in the shadows?

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Every night, right before bed,

I close my eyes and he is there,

Watching, and I see red.

But he is a she, and she is me,

But not me in a way.

Like how a river is an ocean,

But a river is not; they are not the same.

She looks like me, talks like me,

Moves like me, cries like me,

Laughs like me.

Tis the scariest,

As it makes me the wariest.

For who knows who is laughing 

when times are hard.

Is it moi?

Is it le diable?

Or is it her? 

The one in the shadows,

The one you never see,

To quote a dream;

You always hide, you never let others see you.

So is this me after all?

Ridiculous!

But she looks like me, talks like me,

Moves like me, cries like me,

Laughs like me.

Am I hiding behind this shadow?

No, I cannot be.

She is always there, 

Clear like air,

But she is always near.

She talks in my mind, to quote;

She knows. He knows. Everyone knows.

They judge you for it. She’s just friends with you 

because she pities you. The same with him.

They are using you so that they can seem more fun. 

She finds you annoying. He does too, just as I.

This woman in the shadows bothers me.

Keeps me up at night, thoughts swirling around.

Fear creeps around her, always near.

She tells me what to do, even the bad.

To quote;

It’s fine, no one will know.

How will they know anyways?

Just do it. If you don’t, you’re a chicken.

Just risk a little, but there’s nothing to risk.

There was, in fact, a risk.

Trust. Truth. Hope. 

I blare my music to drown her, to escape. 

It works with headphones, 

And I don’t care if I go deaf,

for I will no longer listen to her.

But silence is loud, almost a storm.

The music blocks every sound,

Every thought.

Reading blocks every thought,

Every word, and the whole world.

Writing takes every word,

every thought, and turns it into beautiful. 

Screaming to drown the silence. 

I climb and leap,

to the soft and comfy bed.

What is that shadow in the corner?

Watching me so?

Not the dog nor mom.

Close my eyes and shiver, 

but not from the cold.

For who am I beyond the shadows?

Kaylin Frost

--She/Her-- --Former Seahawk Journal Member-- --Sophomore--

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