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Figment of my Imagination

By JFarrell

I am just a figment of your imagination

I don’t exist

The grumbling of a piece of cheese

Eaten too late at night

A shadow stirred by a

Tap-tap-tapping on your door

Memories awakened by

A howling on the wind

The breath on your neck

Of “Spring-Heeled” Jack

The knife at your throat

In Whitechapel

A ghost, a wisp

A vivid dream

Already forgotten

As you wake

The flea bites me

Then bites the arm of God

And I am nothing, forever

Just a figment, an echo