I wake to silence—too thick, too deep,
Walls lean closer, shadows creep.
The air is stale, a breath too loud,
Something stirs beyond the shroud.
Footsteps patter—no one’s there,
A whisper slithers through the air.
It knows my name, it hums, it waits,
It lingers just beyond the gates.
The door is locked—I locked it tight,
Yet something shifted in the night.
The mirror ripples, glass untrue,
A shape moves where it shouldn’t do.
A click—a creak—the hallway groans,
Something breathes inside my bones.
My fingers twitch, my vision blurs,
A rustling sound—it shifts, it stirs.
Don’t turn around, don’t let it see,
But I feel it crouching over me.
A breath—a touch—too cold, too near,
A voice that drips, “I see you, dear.”
I blink—I'm standing at the door,
The bed untouched, the books on the floor.
A dream? A trick? My pulse won’t slow,
But down the hall—a shadow grows
9/12/2026
The Words That Got to Me
Something stirs beyond the shroud. *Juuuuuuust when I thought it would be a lovely morning of reading on my favorite writing site... A shape moves where it shouldn’t do. *Hahahaha. I almost put this on the "Suggestions/Possible Tweaks" side, but then I realized that it brought some comic relief to my anxiety. So then I appreciated it. Don’t turn around, don’t let it see, But I feel it crouching over me. A breath—a touch—too cold, too near, A voice that drips, “I see you, dear.” *This had an evocative "Shel Silverstein" feel to it, so I loved it immensely!
This is a wonderful Halloween-esque poem. (Do you celebrate that in the UK? If so, I think it would make for a wonderful Open Mic night offering at your club!) I like this because it let me decide how much I was willing to be scared. As you know, unlike you, I am a lightweight in that department! (Did I ever tell you that my one big phobia - aside from the one everyone has about losing loved ones - is the dark? People with imaginations like ours don't do well with the dark. TOO many possibilities. Thank you for making this one "Dark Lite." Very much appreciated.) xoxoxo