HANNAH ROSE

I keep chasing your shadow
Through the thicket and the thorn
With naught but air to show
Why my arms and legs are torn.

I am haunted by your shade,
Compelled to chase your light,
A moth to a flame—betrayed,
By the promise of your sight.

Yet still I always chase you.
Through darkened woods I dare.
And all the while I knew
That you were never there.

To learn more about our contributors, please visit the CONTRIBUTOR BIO page