By giving us the opinions of the uneducated, journalism keeps us in touch with the ignorance of the community. – Oscar Wilde

Gone

Walking along a winding road, the darkness closes in. I hear heavy breathing, that whispers simple sins. A glance behind, I spot a shadow lurking far behind. All senses heighten, my breathing as light as a feather. Do I hide? Do I run? Oh how I wish I had a gun. I’m not a violent person, but protection is a must. “Carry on” I say to myself, as panic begins to set in. On I walk pretending there’s nothing wrong, although I do think something is wrong. Why are you here? following my every footstep. What do you want from me? Or are you just a figment of my imagination, torturing my soul?

Closer and closer your steps creep forward, breathing down my neck. Do I turn and face my death? No. I mustn’t. I will run for my life, away from the Satan  who craves my blood. A hand appears on my shoulder, pulling me to the floor. Screaming in terror I kick and punch the air. What is happening? Who is this? What do they want from me?…run through my mind.

“You will pay for what you’ve done!” He whispers in my ear, as his hand moves towards my neck. His hold on my throat becomes increasingly stronger, preventing my every breath.

This is it. This is the last thing I’m going to see. A mans bulging eyes bearing down on my body, looking at me with hatred.

As I breathe my last breath, I think of love and loss. I will join you now. Beyond the stars. Wait for me with open arms.

Gone.

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One response

  1. Jessss, I love all your poems and I got nominated for this award and I had to nominate 11 others so I chose you – http://amylturk.wordpress.com/2013/02/25/its-not-exactly-the-oscars-but/ 🙂

    February 25, 2013 at 12:32 pm

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