The predator creeps through my dreams,
and every night, he's there.
Stealthy and cunning, despite his size,
slipping behind me,
unnoticed.
He stalks me like a hunter,
an entity of darkness
sizing me up with a cold, steely eye,
grabbing my arms
with sudden intensity
and leaving dark, burnt bruises
long after he's gone.
As my dreams play out in front of me,
he's still watching, hiding,
staring at me...
Even awake, I'll go about my day,
glancing around me,
waiting for that shadow, those eyes
to appear;
a demon in human form.
And every so often,
I'll catch a glimpse of a tall, dark figure
right in the corner of my eye,
peering down hallways
or walking through streets,
and my heart will still,
frozen, blinded by fear.
He's taken over my life,
and now he's taking my mind.
YOU ARE READING
still surviving
PoetryA collection of poems and diary entries from the diary of a girl with mental illness. These are the words unspoken, the raw reality of fighting against your own mind in the battle for recovery. Some content may be triggering for some readers, partic...
