I am what lurks in the dark corners of your conscience,
Flickering through your thoughts
As you walk down an unlit corridor.

I am what makes the hair on your arms rise.
Making your palms sweat
As the sounds from the darkness behind you grow louder.

I am what makes the breath catch in your chest
Like a wild thing caged.
The way your heart beats
As your fingers lift up the skirt of your bed.

Have you let it sink in?
Does your skin feel stretched tight?
Have I consumed you?