A twisted shadow of you is stalking
me in my car and in the grocery store
and while I’m cooking, resting, or walking.
Its presence I can no longer ignore.
It rises with me and quickly creeps through
my home, casting bewitching illusions
and showing treacherous memories. You
don’t know of this shadow’s cruel intrusions
or of its unrelenting enterprise.
You are not all seeing; you are not dead.
But how I wish I could exorcize
Your ghost from my head.