Several years ago, I was laying in bed, trying to fall asleep. It was late, almost morning, when I heard it.
Well, I think I heard it. What sounded like a footstep in my room. My door was barely closed, and with my back turned to the noise, I imagined all sorts of scenarios as to what caused the noise. Or what was possibly standing over my bed, behind me.
I was probably reading a little too much Stephen King at the time, but I wrote this the next day. It’s Halloween, so I figured I’d share it.
Happy Halloween Reformation Day!
who is it i hear
inside my closed door?
soft fall of a step
on carpeted floor.
ever so closer,
what does It search for?
gladly i know not,
but know in my core,
the It in my room
has been here before.
tonight it has come
at quarter past four
and stands by my bed,
a creature of lore,
some hairy monster
or hunchbacked igor.
my back turned, i feel
cold eyes as they bore,
willing me to turn,
but still i ignore
and with bated breath
silently implore:
“go away! i wish
you’d come back no more!”
is the It still there?
could you
would you
open the door
a little bit more?