deepundergroundpoetry.com
It Watches
In my peripheral something shifts
It's always there, watching
Gaze on my back never lifts
In every shadow stalking
Were I to quickly turn to see
Would there be nothing there?
Try to ignore it anxiously
Feeling prickling, raising hairs
Is this real or in my head?
This presence filling me with dread
Would it be worse to be insane?
Or to an apparition chained
No answer comes
To fear I numb
I must avert my gaze
Or people think I'm crazed
This secret I have kept
It matches every step
When I sleep I know it stands beside
Motionless, waiting for my rise
Now no nightmare can phase me
For waking, I don't know what awaits me
Foul, rotten stench...
Cold, chilling "breath"...
A sad, despondent wretch,
I coexist with death
Knowing not what haunts me, faceless
Or what form it may take, shapeless
Clueless to it's intent
Peaceful or malevolent
Nothing to do but wait
Hope its gaze isn't filled with hate
I shake and wonder, is there help?
Who would believe what I have felt?
Wish to escape, for just one day
Yet a mere glance away it stays
A priest? A psychic? A padded room?
Whatever rids me of this gloom
The ever-present sense of doom
Darkness in which I've been entombed
I'm spiraling, losing my grip
Engulfed in terror and panic
Cracks in my mental fortitude
Eroded my will as they grew
Constantly wearing me down, little by little
Tsunamis swelling from the slightest of ripples
Trying to run, knowing not where I'm going
Gasping for air, showing no signs of slowing
Moving until my legs refuse
Knowing I've found no refuge
Facedown to earth I collapse
No clue how much time has lapsed
Lying among the shrubs and pines
I still don't dare to look behind
Published 5th Sep 2021
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