it follows

Like the river’s current along the forest’s bank,

like the blood to your head when your mind goes blank,

like the trails of ants fetching their find,

like the line of eyes as you receive your prize,

like the progression of chords in your favourite song,

like the sense of relief after waiting so long,

like the smell of him on your unwashed clothes,

like the flood of tears as he leans to propose.

It floats.

It flutters.

Like the bugs inside that softly wake.

It glows.

It grows.

Like the warmth with each breath you take.

This feeling, like a whisper,

forever,

it follows.

Like the boom of thunder after lightning strikes,

like the sores left behind after the mosquito bites,

like the sound of silence when you say something wrong,

like the taste of metal when you bite your lip too strong,

like the naive moth to the flickering flame,

like the words you fire back to reflect the blame,

like the spider’s gaze before he leans to attack,

like the everlasting shadow that clings to your back.

It lingers. 

It looms.

Like the deep knot in your stomach.

It haunts.

It hovers. 

Like your heartbeat racing to the summit.

This feeling, like footsteps,

forever, 

it follows.