Despite the blue sky, darkness fills me. It should be raining. Dark clouds should be crying their misery. If this were a novel, that’s what it would be like. If I were writing this, that’s what I would write.
You follow me. Do you know I know? You have to know. You’re in my shadow. You match my steps. If I were writing this, I would give you sharp teeth and bright red eyes, so everyone would know there is a demon at my back.
This is the image you evoke.