Facing the Ghosts (a poem)

He destroys something beautiful
Like us, he commits a grave sin
Like us, he has a demon within
His ugliness is indisputable

Who is this grave sinner?
This phantom of the night?
We see him, then take flight
Wherever we go, he lingers

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Shadows and Me (a haibun)

The hand and the shadow. As the sun sets, light fades through the window. The angular shadows beckon me closer. I reach out with my finger, looking to meet my Shadow Self on the wall. Seeking to integrate those parts of myself I deny and push down. What happens when I touch the Shadow Self?

Hand seeks the shadow
Shadow reaches to the hand
My two selves’ touch

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