you said ‘i love you’
and kissed me hard
and i melted into the touch
that had grown to be so
comfortable, reassuring.
you said ‘i love you’
and i never thought
you would disappear
into thin air, without a goodbye.
you said ‘i love you’
and it haunts me.

you said ‘i love you’
and i thought that meant more
than ‘i’ll last a few months
and then you’ll never see
my bright green car again.’
you said ‘i love you’ and
i nodded out in your arms
after too much vicodin.

you said ‘i love you’
but didn’t tell me
how long that would last.

There are two sorts of shadows in this world.
The shadows at night that are the mere inky blackness of objects
and the spaces between them,
and these are not shadows to be feared.
These are the shadows you know and feel comfortable with
and which do not prickle your skin or hitch your breath.
The other shadows however, the ones which elicit such a reaction, these are the shadows you should fear.
They have a presence, an omniscience and they watch you.
If you walk into your room tonight and feel your stomach tighten, and now the prickle along your skin, is not from the cold,
or should you feel that the quiet of your house is not an empty one
but one which is waiting, leaden and strange,
I suggest, dear reader, that you leave.
Do not peer into the corner.
Do not shake your head and convince yourself
that all is as it should be.
For the shadows which watch are the shadows which ****.
And tonight, you have every chance of finding one.

Lay in silent wait
Watching strangers pass me by
Are they scared like me?