I’m being followed.
look behind me and I hear
a voice in the dark,
“Take it easy, girl.”
I’m being followed.
look under the bed and I see
two gentle eyes,
“I see you. Take it easy.”
I’m being followed.
empty my pockets and I find
a note on folded paper,
“When you going to take it easy
on yourself?”
This was an interesting poem because I tend to find the idea of being followed terrifying (I think many other women do as well). But the poem doesn’t seem to be reading as if the thing following is terrifying.