The Nightmare in You

The shadow that moves with me is not mine. The reflection I see on the ground isn’t joined with me. Its hands don’t sway as I walk, or flick its feet out in that awkward way I do out of habit. It inches forward, nipping at my heels, biting the air behind me as I run. Terror flowing in my veins as dark as the silhouette of me that shouldn’t exist. ‘Come back to me,’ it chants to the rhythm of my thoughts. I look to the shadow expecting a dark mass but it’s changing. I see eyes that resemble mine; it smiles that lopsided smile in the same way I do, but its lips stretch over jagged teeth.

I’m out of places to run.

Brick walls surround me. I’m caged with something that is and isn’t me and it’s suddenly hard to breathe and I can’t see clearly and the figure draws closer and closer with every struggled breath I can’t take.

‘Stop fighting you,’ is all I hear before I drown in skin

                                                                                                     the same colour as mine.

 

 

 

 

 

Oil painting is called Forest and Dove‘ by Max Ernst, which had been on display at the Tate Museum.

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