• The Stalker
    I am in your yard.
    I am at the door.
    You best be on guard.
    I am closer than before.
    You are in your room.
    I chuckle to myself.
    I will be there soon.
    You block the door with a shelf.
    I am on the stairs.
    I can hear you cry.
    You are tugging on your hair.
    I can tell you why.
    I am forcing my way in.
    You are frozen with fright.
    The hairs rise on your skin.
    I am of the night.
    I can clearly see you.
    You can barely see me.
    You ask me, “Who?”
    I reply, “A man sailing on empty sea.”
    My hands wrap around your throat.
    My grip becomes forbidding.
    You just about give up hope.
    Until I say, “Just kidding.”