
I dwell beneath your quiet gaze,
Where light withdraws, where silence stays.
A breath you hide, a thought unsaid,
The dreams you fear, the words you’ve bled.
I am the truth you cast away,
The rage you smile and call dismay.
I wear your shame like second skin,
The part you lost to fit within.
You sculpt your face in morning’s glass,
While I survive in what won’t pass.
The voice that laughs when virtues fall,
The one who knows you — flaws and all.
Not evil, no, nor wholly vile,
I walk beside you all the while.
For in my dark, your wounds are traced,
And with my fire, your soul is faced.
To heal, you must not turn and run—
I am the night that shapes the sun.
So meet me now, don’t look away—
We are one self, in light and gray.
Thank-you for reading.
Much Love and light,
Brenda Marie
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