Again my memory catches me by surprise.

Its desperate inability to remember earlier today.

Yesterday.

Last week.

But the old memories,

The deep wounds,

The ones that make me question everything,

These ones are fresh,

Juicy and brilliant.

A raspberry shimmering in the afternoon sun,

Its innards spilling

On my tongue.

The tears rolling

Where the pain hasn’t gone stale.

I will welcome it all,

I tell myself,

With desire and apprehension,

Neurosis and uncertainty.

These traits have followed me everywhere,

My shadow, my oldest friend.

She has held my hand through it all.

But when I choose to embrace her,

She shatters.

But she arrives again when I stand in the sun,

The drenching warmth calling her forth.

I want her here,

Next to me,

Reminding me about all the darkness that is true.

I want her in my mind,

In my car,

In my bed.

Wherever I go.

But when I become her,

When I become my shadow,

I am crushed by her weight.

A heavy stone holding me under.

Me and my shadow have paddled to the ice and back

And we will continue across the border and over the tundra and through the trees.

When we choose to go home though,

Home to the core where the light outshines the darkness,

We will settle down,

To the real true work

Of telling the world who we are here

Shadow and all.

Relephant read:

The Wisdom of Uncertainty.

Author: Ruth Lera

Editor: Travis May

Image: Andrés Nieto Porras/ Flickr