The skin walker

On nights when I cannot sleep, I hear them.
I hear them outside my window.
I hear their long nails swiping across my window.
Searching for my soul.
But I cannot be foul.
I must not look, I must not look outside for they will see me and prey on my soul.
But it is too late, they catch a glimpse of me.
I suddenly feel cold,
I feel numb.
Have they got me?
Have they feasted on my soul?
And suddenly my body burns up,
With heat as I stare into my reflection.
I see it, they've got me.
It's over, it's too late
I've got to find more bait
"It's my turn" I say to myself
As I stare through the window of another.
                                                                         ~ The skinwalker