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Dec 2018
The kitchen lights are off,
As you come down for a drink,
It's just half past midnight,
And you're standing by the sink.

Outside, through the windows,
You see her watching, lax,
You blink, she disappears,
Then you feel her at your back.

You stand still, paralyzed,
So quick, she grabs you tight,
This shadow is so empty,
Yet she holds so strong tonight.

She runs a finger up your spine,
And chills you to the bone,
As dark as the space between the stars,
She wants to drag you home.
Isaac Spencer
Written by
Isaac Spencer  25/M/DuBois, Pennsylvania
(25/M/DuBois, Pennsylvania)   
394
     David Hutton, PoetryJournal and lX0st
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