…and lost, in your possession

I am haunted by you, not by your past, or by the memory of you
I am beset by your reality, I come across you in the dark of night
in the solitude of rest, in my restless slumber
I am startled by your presence, raised bleary eyed
to the hallways, to the corners
to the quiet places and the hidden parts of my existence
I am haunted, harried, by you, you trespass upon my daydreams
frighten me from my reverie, set my heart racing
I feel my skin crawl ,the tiny hairs on my arms and on my neck
ripple with the anticipation of your possession
my breath is visible before me, I can touch it
move it with my fingers, feel it cool against my flesh
I see your face in the mist, your eyes upon me, looking through me
hands outstretched, I shield myself from you
reach for you and find myself empty handed
traces of you, nothing tangible
I cannot turn my thoughts, my attention, from you
you haunt my consciousness and my dreams
I hear you calling to me across time
your voice is for me alone, the sound pierces the quiet
stabs at my heart and at my soul
setting me aquiver, in fear and fascination
I am alone in my visions, in my dark disturbances
you haunt me,I am entranced by your spirit
you are invasive, elusive, real, yet unimaginable
I cannot envisage a world that you do not inhabit
a room that you do not abide in, a part of me that is empty of you
I am haunted by you, by your reality and lost, in your possession
© Ann Bagnall