A Deer in the Headlights
Stalked, followed.
Deeper into darkness, the comfort it provides, the shelter in which it allows me to enter.
Shadows dancing and caressing, showing and protecting, both passive and loving.
But that which disturbs always finds me, stalks me and leaves me a mess.
Heart skip, panic!
Those two dreadful lights, ones that follow me, that bring forth and expose my shame.
They leer behind me, engulfing every lovely shadow and swallowing the world whole.
I never turn around and look back—though I am certain it is them, I can’t look.
I could never face them, I would die if I did.
Shamed, terrified.
I feel them growing bigger and bigger, getting closer and closer.
And in that moment, there is nothing else. No one exists. No feelings can be felt.
I become no one; I have no past; I have never existed: I come to embody only dread.
I’ve been caught, I’ve been found, and now I’m completely exposed. There’s just shame.
Hurry, run!
I have to get away from them, I yearn and beg for darkness to return.
I can’t take the guilt and I certainly can’t take the shame, so please don’t make me look.
I’m just trying to survive yet I know very well there is no identity in paranoia.
No mind, no love, no being—simply a lost soul hoping and waiting to be more than this.
This story is part of a collection of poems, short stories and introspective reflections of my creation, called “Grimoire of a Weirdo”.