just, don’t

All I held dear, this good life I'd found

like scum you razed it to the ground.

Each noise in the unknown nighttime street

the creak in the wood, in every off beat -

it's you. The door, now fastidiously chained. 

You. All you. You raged and remained

wheedled your way in, got under cold skin

to lurk in the crevices of all life therein.

A friend request from a stranger so vague

each vacuous follower cannot assuage

this mistrust that is in me, in fevered mind

and my brain. Online attacks, always find

my go-to is you, but never you, you rat

you aggressive, neanderthal stalker. Just that.

You are nothing, but everything. Be brave

I say to myself. Still I wish you in shallow grave.

It would be just, the right thing with ally

to scuttle darkly on your level and you die.

If I could, I would, but I can't, so I won't

kill you and get away with it. No Paul, don't.