Catoptrophobia Poem by Thea Pound

I catch a glimpse of that girl,
Wherever I go,
Those cold, greyish eyes,
That seem to follow,
That scraggy dark brown hair,
Tied back from her face,
Those sharp, severe features,
That I know, but can't place.
That saffron stained skin,
Pulled taut across her bones,
The emotionless expression,
That tells me to atone.

Those stair-rails shine in silver,
And suddenly I see,
Those same intense grey eyes,
Violently accusing me,
And as I pass by the puddles,
That shimmer on the ground,
I see her watching me,
Glaring out amoung the clouds.
Her boney figure stalks me,
The shadow at my heels;
My Doppleganger's waiting;
My fate's already sealed.