I recognize her and run
but she chases me into the darkest
corners where I cower and feel the
anxiety thrum like musical chords in
a restless tempo. She drowns me but
I still seem to be gasping for air. I try
to scream but the clenching in my
stomach won’t disappear. She shields
me in her sensitivity as she consumes
my mind—forcing her way into my
unsuspecting thoughts. She captures
my attention for her own use. She’s
everywhere I look, she’s the only thing
I feel deep inside. She becomes the
blood rushing through my veins and the
skin covering my trembling bones. She’s
the monster under my bed and the one
living in the depths of my closet. She has
become the darkness of my life, and
I can’t seem to escape.