My daughter is 3.
She cries to me and says,
"Mommy, there's a monster in my closet!"
"Sweetie, there's nothing in your closet let me show you."
The darkness is turned bright and her relief fills my heart with joy.
I kiss her head and tuck her in and sweep out the door.
My daughter is 7.
She shakes and whispers to me,
"Mom, there's a monster under my bed."
"Baby, monsters aren't real, see?"
The darkness is turned bright and her relief fills my heart with joy.
I kiss her head and tuck her in and sweep out the door.
My daughter is 15.
She comes to me with tears and weeps,
"Mom. There's a monster in my head."
"Darling, monsters don't exist. You're just emotional."
I think the darkness is turned bright and I think her relief fills my heart with joy.
I kiss her head and hug her close and sweep out the door.
My daughter will always be 15.
Her voice comes to my mind as I stand over her.
"Mom. there's a monster in my head."
"Mom, there's a monster under my bed."
"Mommy, there's a monster in my closet!"
And I whisper,
"Maybe monsters are real."
The darkness was never turned bright and her relief wasn't true.
So I kiss her cold head and close the casket shut and sweep out of the door.
YOU ARE READING
When The Blood Ran Black
PoesieWhen my demon decided it wanted out, there was nothing I could do to stop it. I could only watch as bloodied claws pierced my skin and shadows leaked through my eyes in black teardrops. It wanted out, and I was content to let it roam. >>>&g...
