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Wendern in den regen

es wind nie mehr dieselbe sein

du bist nicht vei mir.

ENGLISH

Walking in the rain

it will never be the same

you're not with me.

(c) copyright heather burns

Paranoia

By Muriel Palanca

I can feel you lurking behind me. My heart flutters and quickens.
Rush of blood to the head, to the chest.
For a moment I forget to breathe and the urge to run is one I must deny.
It’s all in slow motion; cold sweat, eyes burning through my skull.
I walk.
Bones crushing together; each step an eternity.
Every scream terrified, amplified, clawing at my insides
But the beast must be tamed.
Oh god I want to cry. Home is miles away. 
The street is wet and illuminated, empty and suffocating. 
I feel you closing in. Your footsteps are a whisper creeping under my skin,
Into my lungs making my fingertips numb, clutched so tight in a chokehold,
Tearing my soul into shreds. I’m dead inside, trapped in the coffin, buried alive.
Breaking. Vulnerable. Insignificant. Will no one miss me when I’m gone?
Panic. Raw undiluted fear. Weakness. Rage. Power. Survival.
So close; you’re right behind me.
The wind picks up; howls.
Chilled to the bone. Skin tightens.
I hear my name. Quiet.
I turn around.
The street is empty.
There is no one there.