Behind

It's just a feeling, at first

An itch, almost:

What's that lurking over your shoulder?

You know there's nothing there,

So why do you insist on turning

Your head to check?

Sure enough, you see

Nought that doesn't belong;

A false alarm.

But the feeling doesn't go.

You can fight it, delay it all you like

But sooner or later

You'll have to check again.

And this continues anon.

A too-dark shadow,

An uncanny reflection,

A peripheral phantom -

If there was truly nothing there

Then why do you still feel it

Behind you?