The Shadow That Stays
When pain stays long after the moment is gone
Oh, how I hate the darkness.
It doesn’t knock. It doesn’t speak.
It just slips in—
like a secret you forgot you buried deep.
The shadow creeps at night—
not fast, not loud—
just slow.
Like it owns the right
to make my fear grow.
A cold hand grips my ankle.
Fingers like ice, no face in sight.
I freeze.
As it climbs, inch by inch,
stealing the warmth I didn’t offer—
without mercy, without rights.
My breath catches.
My body still.
So here I lie, a quiet shell,
Trapped in this creeping, silent hell.
It doesn’t ask.
It doesn’t care.
It takes what's mine—
the heat, the hope,
the fight that once burned there.
The room grows heavier.
The air... turns grey.
It whispers with no mouth:
"You won’t get away."
And maybe that’s true.
Maybe I won’t.
Maybe I’ll be hollow by the time
the morning comes.
But I speak this now—
so if you feel it too...
You're not alone
in the dark
with what you’ve been through.
About the Creator
JesMe
I write about the things that keep me awake at night—the thoughts, the fears, the memories that refuse to stay quiet. Some become poems. Others, stories. Whether they’re fiction monsters or real ones, they’re all real to me.
Public Announcement Challenge Winners
For the Public Announcement Challenge, writers were asked to work inside voices built for control. These were notices, warnings, and updates meant to inform rather than confess. The strongest entries committed to that form and didn't break from it. Corporate memos, formal government alerts, and internal policy language were held consistently, allowing emotion, fear, grief, or humor to surface indirectly through pressure rather than declaration. The following poems recognize the voice of authority, and let human feeling slip through despite all its rules and restraint.
By Vocal Curation Teamabout 11 hours ago in Resources
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.