Poetry

Too Late

Photo credit @kreachureskadaver Model Credit @l.lane22

“Sometimes, when I dream, I wonder if
the outcome of this nightmare
will ever change.”

It was there in the shadows, over your shoulder, lurking, waiting for its moment to strike. I met its eyes and I felt its intentions, the rage, and the way it slithered around like snakes, shrouded in the darkness. You froze, catching the look on my face. “Don’t look behind you,” I whispered.

But it wasn’t you that replied. “Too late,” it said in response before dragging you away. That was the last time I saw you.

© Sarah Doughty
2016

Sometimes, when I dream,
I wonder if the outcome
of this nightmare
will ever change.

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