Peripheral
They dwell in the peripheral
a place I truly dread
Not sure exactly what they are
I think that they are dead
They stalk the corner shadows
in the day or black of night
I sense their movements vaguely
always dashing out of sight
They themselves are darkness
having neither form nor face
When trying for a clearer look
they're gone without a trace
I used to think perhaps my eyes
were playing tricks on me
until that night while in my bed
they tapped me on my knee
When something laid down next to me
I felt the mattress sink
I threw the lights on straightaway
and poured myself a drink
I glimpse them in the darkened
halls and doorways here throughout
Sometimes I hear their mutterings
as they all roam about
There have been times when I can swear
they're right next to my ear
with breathing or faint whisperings
and I'm awash with fear
They dwell in the peripheral
that place I truly dread
I pray that I'm just crazy
and they're only in my head
2/22/19
Copyright © Michael Wise | Year Posted 2019
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