- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Death
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He is in the shadows
He is in the shadows near my house
And He stalks me
The moon lights a black shadow on the floor
As He slithers across the
Cold damp wood
The metallic scent of rust
Rust and fear
Make His eyes dilate
And His senses perk up
Sharp, dirty fingernails
Scratch the window of my
Living room
And His breath clouds
The cool glass
He won’t be violent
There is no need for Him to be
And He knows
He has done this before
The lock clicks
The door creaks
And He comes for me
- COMMENTS
