Sunday, October 28, 2012

A Shadow

You tend to trip me, treacherous past.
The second I think I've gotten away
and fled--at last--your terrible claws,
you catch up to me. You sneak up to me.
You spring up and try to push me back.

I refuse. You monster, you--
you fallen angel, you nightmare
from the darkest avenue--
get behind me, far behind me,
back in that abyss that you call home.

--Emily