The monsters are here
I close my eyes so tight in bed,
but monsters creep inside my head.
Their whispers slither through the dark,
sharp as teeth, cold and stark.
Beneath the bed, behind the door,
they talk, they breathe,
just like the night before .
Not flesh, not bone,
but thoughts that bite,
feeding on my sleepless night.
I hold my breath, I clench my fists,
but still, they lurk within the mist.
And though I fight, though I pretend,
they are driving me round the bend.
The night is long, the air is thin,
these monsters live beneath my skin.
In my ears and in my fast-beating heart.
I am either a stain or this is the start.
Sometimes faces in my closed eyes,
sometimes whispers.
They all tell lies.
I feel them prod and poke.
These mental Harry’s are no joke.
Then daylight comes to disappear.
Now I can sleep for an hour without fear.
About the Creator
Marie381Uk
I've been writing poetry since the age of fourteen. With pen in hand, I wander through realms unseen. The pen holds power; ink reveals hidden thoughts. A poet may speak truth or weave a tale. You decide. Let pen and ink capture your mind❤️
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Comments (4)
Nightmares are horrible, but one just has to see the why of the nightmare and they will go away. Good job.
Love night , dark and haunting and the shit always hits the fan at the witching hour at 3am. Nice work. I really enjoyed this story. Keep up the good work.
Fears of my childhood
Oh my - that is a great poem for things bumpy the mind in the night! 😳 Their whispers slither - creepy!