To see someone like you,
someone of no relation but yet
the same,
can to some be a happy sight.

But when you see someone, carrying a copy of your despair,
of the sorrow you had hoped to leave behind,
that someone shifts into a something.

That same thing is something too ugly to gaze upon, to watch, to see but
your eyes can't stop.
Your eyes stalk that something as if its prey but it's not.
It's a predator incognito,
A wolf cloaked, pulling you in with a sense of homecoming.

But don't open the door that you closed and locked.
Don't look for the key,
that you hurled into the ocean.