June ’25 Prompt Submissions: Shadow Self

describe your shadow self.

Consider your bright parts first – search for balance

Take a photograph without looking, avoid mirrors

Write about yourself like you’ve never met before

Create or find something that reveals what has been hiding inside you

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She’s the Archivist of the nearly-done. Arms full of half-painted canvases, drafts without posting, seedlings never transplanted. She lives in the margin between intention and action, where time turns viscous and the clock’s hands slip through your fingers. When you turn a spotlight on her, she recedes-not because she’s evil, but because she’s built to protect you from scrutiny, disappointment, and the sting of “not good enough yet.”

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Name: princess of July

Subject: well who ARE you when no one’s looking??

Message: Forgive me I think I took the prompt too literally. I’ve been mulling over it for a month and some change. When no one’s looking?? Okay well I’m probably dancing or singing, or thinking one million miles a minute, or thinking very slowly. Either way I’m thinking. I’m changing the song midway through because now I want to hear something else, and there’s no need to feel bad about it because I’m djing for myself. I’m cleaning. I’m cooking. But not in a housewife way. No it’s totally in a housewife way. I’m taking care of my imaginary family and household, all while in a sexy dress and pumps. I’m yearning for the past and present. I’m making lists and dreaming very very hard about them. I’m making plans to aid my happiness, present, and future. And when I’m not doing all of those things I’m tapping my foot and staring blankly. I’m struggling to begin and end conversations. I’m creating deep and complex relationships and connections in my head with people, then becoming incredibly disappointed when my passion is not met. So our connection is not as big and grand to you as it is to me? And then I do it all over again. ❤️

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in other people

the shadow is life following me, all of life’s desires and goals and wealths and aspirations. I see him as a taunting figure who brings up the past, telling me not to lose it, telling me not to lose it. He appears in odd places wearing a cloak and loose apparel. Sometimes I turn with my back facing against the sun but I find him not standing there. Other times I walk East in the light of the morning to find him pacing at an equal pace before me. I’ve seen him before standing once as four people simultaneously, like the flood lights in a football stadium, hitting from every corner. Like I’m surrounded in a house of mirrors except there are no mirrors, although the only source of light is the single source above. Whenever I shake hands with someone, he shakes too, like his being comes forth through the surface of my skin. And that is how I meet him, in other people. I finally see the me who follows me whenever I chat with or touch other people.

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prose, acceptance: shadow self


This is me, giving love to my pain
She deserves to be felt
What a cruelty, to deny her the space
she deserves to take up
She is worthy
as worthy as happiness and bliss
To deny her is a disservice to myself

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meeting her

she is gorgeous. she’s captivating in a unique way, her nose small, her face round, her dark hair cascading.
she speaks in a funny way, her sentences interjected with little jokes that she chuckles at. I can see how hard she works to entertain everyone, to make them feel at ease. it works.

she goes home and stares at her body in the mirror. she worries about her clothes, her face, her hair. she wonders what people think of her, if it matches what she sees in the mirror, in her favorite photos, or if it looks like what she sees in the windows of empty stores that she passes by.

she is always on a quest to know how others see her. she seeks the thrill of being perceived, of being reminded, ‘I am real! I take up space! I make a difference!’

once in a while, she sees herself. the body that she occupies. its dark hair, soft curves, and dark circles. it has been her constant companion. there she is, in the mirror. she’s always been there.