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Rake

by Hunter Wilson 5 years ago in surreal poetry
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A... Poem... by Hunter Wilson

I stand and watch

outside the house,

observing all.

I see you living.

You do not see me.

Yet.

I whisper to you.

As a faint wind

you hear your name.

You may look for me

but you will not find me.

I will come to you instead.

One night you wake

and see me at the foot of your bed.

I speak your name.

You look into my eyes.

I know they are frightening;

empty, black, dead...

I place my hand on your cheek,

Letting you know it is all okay.

My fingers cut deep.

Do not be afraid.

You scream and shrink from my touch.

You are another of those, then?

Scared of me because I am not one of you?

Frightened of something you do not know?

Terrified of something Other?

Down the hall your child wakes,

cries out for her mother.

I will help.

I will make it be quiet for you.

It is silent now.

Why are you crying?

It is only dreaming.

I wipe the blood on the carpet.

You try to hit me.

You want me gone.

Why?

You wake in the morning.

Tears streaming.

I remember.

You will never accept me.

I am always there.

Always watching.

Always waiting.

Stay, stay here and keep me company.

I need somebody to love me.

No? Fine.

I watch you.

Always there, on the foot of your bed,

staring with my cold dead eyes.

Whispering your name...

surreal poetry

About the author

Hunter Wilson

Actor, writer, occasional dumbass.

Twitter: @melhwarin

Instagram: @myslyvi

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