Bo’s Shadow
Bo was 6 when he made a full body
silhouette in class. Black paper that he carefully cut out and brought home proudly. He called it his shadow.
He taped it to his wall near his bed It
remained there for 3 years. The longest our mom had ever stayed in any apartment. Family owned the building.
Bo secretly told me that he’d put his soul into his “shadow” to keep it safe from mom, and the rest of the gropey family!
Every day he’d checked on his soul.
When he was nine…
Mom accused him of stealing cookies she’d never bought. I did all the shopping and shoplifting. With glee, Mom tore Shadow to pieces as punishment.
Bo was never the same. He boxed up the pieces and still has them at age 41! He can’t hold a job and has attempted suicide several times. His soul is torn.
His relationships never last. He justly blames our mother. Sometimes we visit our grandma’s grave to piss on it for her having given birth to our mother.
We also do perverse things to Mom’s ashes. But it’s only a small satisfaction.
Bo always brings along the small blue shoebox with Shadow’s pieces.
Funny and sad.
This piece is wonderfully human.
This is sad. He boxed up his soul.
The things we humans do to each other because the humans before us did them to the humans after them…
Who is going to stop that?
I get this entire poem. A lot of people do. Girl, you survived all of that. You have scar tissue, blood boiling hot sometimes, I’m sure. But today? You’re here. Sharing this, expressing, purging and giving voices to the people who feel like they can’t speak.
I’m glad to read you.
Thank you so much!
This is disturbing, but believable. You need to pass a test before getting a driver’s license, but no qualifications at all are needed to become a parent–the most important job in the world. Numerous are those who go through life with broken souls.