These Four Walls Poem by Rachel Birbeck

Aghast to be followed still not alone
ethereal being witnessed when not at home.
Across faces and faces one catches my eye,
visitant watches until I outcry-

"Was that you by the counter? Are you there by the stairs? Were you waiting for me? ", another encounter to bare.

But you just stay silent until I go mad
and watch as I writhe in anger and sad.
Slowly breaking until I can't leave
four walls I inhabit the one place to be.