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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2259328-The-thing-that-watches
Rated: ASR · Poetry · Dark · #2259328
It’s always watching.
I see it watching, the thing that’s not there. Tiny glimpses out of the corner of my eye.

Watching...waiting...biding it’s time.

The moon casts shadows on the wall at night, a deeper black than the darkness around it while the light glints off it’s teeth.

I feel the breath on the back of my neck, and the light touch of it on my skin, and always when I look, it isn’t there.

But it is.

Guttural tones of its heavy breathing come to my ears, mixed with choking chuckles.

Sometimes I feel the mattress sink down, because it’s getting tired of just watching.

I can smell it when it’s close,

and it smells like Death.
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