The Shape of Fear

It is the dark shadows
Spied from the corner of your eye,
Drawing nearer with each blink.
You turn to confront it,
But find nothing there.

It is the noises in the night
As you lie awake in bed;
Floor creaking,
Windows heaving,
Taps dripping.
The sound of your home sleeping.

It is the sensation of being followed,
A figure always two steps behind:
Watching,
Stalking,
Calculating,
Only to go left as you go right.

It is the anonymous phone call,
Seemingly no one there.
You repeat 'hello',
Demand 'whose there'.
A tape message clicks,
A recorded message plays.

It is the stranger at the door
As your dog stands guard.
Ears pricked,
Hackles raised,
A guttural growl,
A leaflet through the letterbox.

It is your mind and mind alone,
Your overactive imagination.
The fear of fear itself,
All controlling,
All the time,
The shape of your fear
Is You.