The Stalker

The nagging never ceases.
Relentless! On and on.
Why do you feel the need to torment me,
pester me, worry me, fill me with dread?
If it wasn’t so serious I’d call it teasing,
but your tone is so threatening;
your threats so unspeakable
that I feel I have no escape.
Stop it. Enough! I won’t listen anymore!
Niggle, go on. Think I don’t know
you are waiting in dark recesses ready to pounce?
Just when I think all the bullying has stopped;
when I think it is safe to relax;
here you are with your questions again.
So many questions.
Did you? What if? Suppose…
This cacophony of doubt echoes around in my head.
I can’t function because of your jibes.
I can’t go on anymore with the doubt
playing tricks with my memory, damaged and unsafe.
You leave me guessing.
I have to turn back, quieten your voice.
Settle this matter, banish my anxiety.
I can no longer ignore your irritating desire
to play havoc with my peace of mind.
I submit, I give in,
and I’ll turn back and check…
Did I switch the iron off
before I came out?

© DF 2008


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