You are the monster under my bed
peering through my mattress
setting in motion acute terror.
Your mark looms ever present
like old impressions in memory foam.
You are the monster outside of my window
waiting for me for hours in the early morning
existing in present tense.
Your glare fixates on me through the curtains
with malice and resentment disguised as affection.
You are the monster in my imagination
snapping an arm in two as if it were a wishbone
and pummeling a young girl until she bleeds on the inside.
You watch as they glue her back together
only to break her again.
You are the monster in my nightmares
slithering down alleyways
chasing me in susurrous murmurs
smelling of liquor
and methamphetamine.
