Me and My Shadow

"One does not become conscious by  imagining figures of light, but by making  the darkness conscious."  --C.G. Jung At the strike of midnight, my shadow wets my dreams; A series of thirsty trials, drains my insanity. I cry, thrust and moan,  "smash my past...slay destiny!" Still is my soul;  Still smiling,  as I sip from life's cocktails of  initiation and ecstasy. My shadow lays with me, so I'm protected when I sleep. I'll cut my lovely body, 4 the sake of vanity; My libra tendencies, that's fitting for black queen's. Mindful to stroke and carve in, my eccentricities. Where's my roots? How do I refine me? Is there a heaven's gate? Because I feel like  I'm dying. Interrogating my truth,  inside my core,  about my outer being; Is feeding the hungry wolf, same as fools who  graze ideally? My shadow flows with me, so I can swim the bluest of seas. I'll drown all my emotions, in red wine and purple dreams. Then create a deeper me,  in2 uncharted mysteries; A depth so smothering, in a world that's meant  to breath. My shadow shines bright lights, when crap wears inside of me;  The integration of asses will fit tight, as I squeeze my infinite essence into a pair of small minded genes...