She follows me.

Everywhere I go.

I see her.

Lurking.

Watching.

Hiding.

Out of the corner of my eye.

In a photograph.

In the reflection of a window.

Just a glimpse.

A mere silhouette on the edge of my awareness.

For just a fleeting moment.

I feel her presence.

When I am feeling vulnerable.

When I am trying to hold on.

When I am pretending to be okay.

I can sense her lingering within the fringes of my joy.

When I am feeling beautiful.

When I am content.

When I am happy.

She inhabits my perceptions.

She is always there.

Waiting.

To remind me.

When I forget.

She dwells within the shadows of my insecurities.

She feeds on my doubts.

She hides in the cracks of my resolve.

She knows me.

She follows me.

She haunts me.

She is the ghost of me.

She was me.

Before.

She became part of me.

After.

And we are forever tangled.

 

 

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