Walks Around the Neighborhood are Deadly and Strange

Walks around the neighborhood are deadly and strange

That’s how I’d describe my life living back on the front range

The only time I had

To be in the fresh air

Was walking down, around a lake

It was my self care.

Then walking turned to running

Till my appendix died

So I went back to walking

And staying more inside.

Then staying more inside

Led to laying more in bed

Till I’d go days upon the days

Without lifting my head.

The lake it seemed

So far away

I couldn’t face

To walk most days

But on those days

I quickly learned

The lake is what

for most I yearned.

So walks became more frequent

And walks turned into runs

Finally, I’m back

In a thicker hotter sun.

Today while I was out

Running by the lake

A man caught up to me three times

His face I couldn’t shake.

Maybe it was how he dressed:

White t shirt with stains of sorts

Mangled wrinkles on old blue shorts.

Maybe it was how he stressed

“Hello…”

It’s a blithe but sinister danger

Confronted by the smile of a stranger.

I didn’t want to think much of it

But my mind was running faster than my feet on the ground

I couldn’t take the thought and shove it

The paranoia grew with each racing bound.

In my head this was this sound:

He stopped catching up to me where the bushes are thickest

That must mean he’s hidden now deep in the thickets

So when I make my way back to the place where he’s hiding

He’ll grab me and take me to a place where no amount of fighting

would save me.

I stopped in my tracks.

I turned on my heel and headed on back

to safety.

Back to my bed.

I’d rather be there

Then end up another dead girl.

Thanks world.

I can’t even run round a neighborhood lake

Without feeling the terror of my life at stake.

Walks around the neighborhood are deadly and strange

That’s how I’d describe living back, stuck, on the front range.

Copyright © 2020 by Emily Bollman