The Beast

Agoraphobia--The Beast

The Beast

The Beast hunts her.
How many months, she cannot say.
On her heels,
breathing down her neck,
she sidesteps him.

The Beast on her stoop, pacing.
Perimeters covered, no escape.
trapped within her home,
fear grips her--vise-like.
Light or dark, afraid to
venture forth.

The Beast never sleeps, ever watchful.
Opening the door,
toe across the threshold.
Bile rises in her throat,
she must hurry back
to release it.

The Beast grins, knowing it has won...
this round.
Planning the final kill, she vies
for her freedom.