| General Non-Fiction posted December 28, 2022 |
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It is always there.
The Stalker
by prettybluebirds
I know it's waiting. It's always there. It haunts me and follows me wherever I go, watching for a moment of weakness. It's like a wolf slinking through the dark shadows, stalking me daily, eager to sink fangs into my throat. Or a vulture circling, ever circling, waiting for the moment I let my guard down so it can attack, talons tearing, and beak gouging leaving fresh wounds on my scar-covered body.
At times, in that fuzzy area between wakefulness and sleep, it catches me. It knows this is my weakest moment of the day and attacks without warning, showing no mercy. It rips the scars off my wounds and adds new ones. Pain floods my body, and tears run down my face. I fight and struggle until finally, I break its deadly hold, and it vanishes into the shadows from whence it came. Sometimes it is easy to get away, and other times it takes all I have in me to escape.
Afterward, I stare wide-eyed into the darkness, afraid to sleep for fear it might return, my sweat-soaked pajamas cold on my skin. I know there will be the next time, and I wonder how much more my old body can stand.
Many times I have tried to escape the monster and live my life in peace, to no avail. After harassing me for over thirty years, it seems like it would give up and leave me be, but I don't think it ever will. I believe it will follow me to my grave and may even be the cause of my death.
Time softens wounds but does not heal them. Grief is a formidable and relentless enemy forever.
I know it's waiting. It's always there. It haunts me and follows me wherever I go, watching for a moment of weakness. It's like a wolf slinking through the dark shadows, stalking me daily, eager to sink fangs into my throat. Or a vulture circling, ever circling, waiting for the moment I let my guard down so it can attack, talons tearing, and beak gouging leaving fresh wounds on my scar-covered body.
At times, in that fuzzy area between wakefulness and sleep, it catches me. It knows this is my weakest moment of the day and attacks without warning, showing no mercy. It rips the scars off my wounds and adds new ones. Pain floods my body, and tears run down my face. I fight and struggle until finally, I break its deadly hold, and it vanishes into the shadows from whence it came. Sometimes it is easy to get away, and other times it takes all I have in me to escape.
Afterward, I stare wide-eyed into the darkness, afraid to sleep for fear it might return, my sweat-soaked pajamas cold on my skin. I know there will be the next time, and I wonder how much more my old body can stand.
Many times I have tried to escape the monster and live my life in peace, to no avail. After harassing me for over thirty years, it seems like it would give up and leave me be, but I don't think it ever will. I believe it will follow me to my grave and may even be the cause of my death.
Time softens wounds but does not heal them. Grief is a formidable and relentless enemy forever.
 Recognized |
#14 December 2022 |
Artwork by Donna Colley at FanArtReview.com
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