When I died,

my shadow decided that they would take over.

All I can do is churn in my grave.

As my shadow takes over my life like a dark cloud looming over a beach.

Dark movements, dark thoughts.

Speechless, with lips but without a mouth.

Does the shadow have my thoughts?

In all this time as my shadow,

They have had no choice but to look forward.

Always behind me.

Observation was surely their only hobby.

Matching my habits perfectly.

Resembling me only when the lights are off.

My shadow sleeps in my bed, with the lights on,

While I sleep in my grave, with the lights off.