The Hand That Feeds You

Standing still And watching in silence The breath breathes out Slow, Slower, Stopped. The heart races And the eyes are wide The blood pumps Moving under taut skin Death watches, eyes black, Black as midnight, Black as the sky on a starless night And you stand. Terrified. Petrified. Frozen. Caught. He approaches, skeletal hand searching You shrink away, heart stopping Even his presence will affect Skin cools, Even as eyes roll back. ‘Come my dear’ he will intone, And go you will.