Dancing with Your Dark

Standing in the corner She fidgets, uncomfortably staring at Her feet. She is your Loneliness. Your Not Enoughness.

She is your Exiled Inner Child, your Drowned Adolescent, your Unmet Expectations and your Crossed Boundaries.

You see Her. And She sees you.

Tears stream down Her face and you quickly avert your gaze. 
You are easily swept away by the handsome Pressure to Perform, who bedazzles the crowd leading you in grand gestures across the room. 

You steal a gaze at Her, in the corner still. You can feel Her pain like outstretched arms, reaching and grasping for you.

So you turn to the punch bowl. Savor your accomplishments with the taste of (spiked) cherry tang and then back to the dance floor. 

Gettin’ jiggy with the cool crew of Image, Falsity and Fame.
It’s nearly the end of the night, and you can't help but glance over to that dark corner.

​Oh No!
She is slumped over in despair on the floor. 
GO! Be with Her! How bad does it have to be until you ask Her to dance? 

​As you lift Her up you feel the ropy embrace of Her solitude. 
The weight of Her prisoner’s chains. You want to let go.
Hold Her in your embrace. 
See Her. Feel Her. Be with Her. 
And Dance. 

Maybe it’s a Lullaby of Longing. 
Maybe a Rap of Rage and Regret. 
Let Her lead you, guide you, into the shadows. 
Into Yourself. 
Let Her in.

*Photo by I.am_na

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