Amongst the gloomy green
douglas firs is where
you can find me
running
like Laura Palmer
in the midst of the misty forest
that’s claiming my name
running
not escaping
you’re not my father
who raped me
in spirit-form
BOB
you’re desire itself
hunting me
chasing me as I try
to escape
your firm grip
leaving marks on my neck
‘Let go’ I say
I repeat it over
and over
and over
but you still follow me.
Desire is a force so strong that
even though I’m running
as fast as I can
it will always catch up with me
and never let me go
until I fully allow myself to
succumb
to the one hunting me
who, in reality
is the one I am hunting