I wait in darkness for the passing of the hours
My shades drawn tight against the prowlers of the night
My closet locking in the bogeyman,
My bedroom door ajar to catch the light.
The stairs they creak, the floorboards groan,
Asleep? In bed yet? Even home?
I lie and, straining, hold my breath,
Not sure if sounds are sounds or phantoms of an
Till unaware my lungs betray, expand, contract,
My hyper vigilance denied,
My breathing starts then slows into a semblance of
The peacefulness of sleep which waking life
Till, eyes sewn shut, the dream – the dream again, I recognize:
A dome of darkness, ruddy shadows turning black,
And beating, thudding, something unseen terrifies,
Some awful truth bores in behind my back.
Am I alone there in the cavern of my heart,
Its shade unwarmed by the satanic glow
That reaches for the edges of this darkened space
Snuffed out by blackness as the shadows flow
And ebb, and grow – create? Conceal?
The bulging carapace that's black with blood
My life's blood filling, bloating, is it real?
Or am I still alone within my heart,
Safe, though petrified by dreams I yet may see?
(The hall door clicks; a darker shadow stands
The monstrous bug digs in my heart voraciously,
No dream but gnawing at the substance of myself
Within, without, I know it well, once more