Monster Under the Bed


my shadow creeps over him...looming
i'll leave him swooning, crying for mommy, assuming
that she'd believe him...but adults call me an illusion
which only leaves the kids more confused and presuming
that mommy is right, nothings going bump in the night
they are all so stumped in their fright, trying to reassure
that's they'll end up alright
- which they will...except for the puddle of piss
and the teary eyes which have seen me come in the night
and befuddled them sick, the drum role ignites
my hand lifts, my razor sharp nails find their tips
and my shadow creeps over him...a slumbering kid
and my vocal chords arch, ready to roar
when a voice mixes in with the snores
...
i clamour back under the bed, to avoid being seen
and peer into the hallway with a peeping gleam
...
and what i saw...a broken hearted wife watching her husband
return from a late "business" trip with a look so smug that
she need not question the lip stick marks on his collar
if she can even see past the half empty bottle that she coddles
but she likes to think its half full...she like to think life's half bull
and the other half is simply the empty void to which her heart succumbs
so she stares at him with the piercing eyes of a begging bum
...
"back late again?" "well you know, work is work."
"work is work? haven't you said that enough? 'work is work'"
as she mocked him in a half masculine holier than thou voice
"LISTEN" he retorted "i work for you, this house, the boy"
"the boy? Jesus Christ you don't even know his name
fine...why don't you work till you can sit upon a throne of shame"
and this went on for a while...the bickering of atested lore
all the while the thing they fought over had his ear pressed against the door
and finally a smack, and she marched into the bedroom
and the husband? he wouldn't take it, so he left, bruised.
...
and the kid? and the kid...the forgotten kid who heard and watched
he started to cry silently into the night, all mirth was gone
he had watched them do this before, it was obvious
i can tell his experience from how quiet his sobbing is
...
and so i gazed at him...his blue eyes bleared from the tears
i could tell this pain had long been seering his fears
i could tell that his heart was an empty void sick of searching and
his eyes had become permanent tears, so sick of jerking them
and i tried...but i could not put on a monster disguise
i could not perform my duties to go bump in the night
and yet i could not sit their and watch him die inside
and yet i could not sit their and watch him die inside
...
and so i climbed onto his sheets with the greatest of stealth
climbed into his arms with no patience or health
i was taking a risk of being caught by the adults
but with those two as parents, i knew they wouldn't notice at all
and i snuggled with him, me in his arms, nothing left to care
except that he was alright, that he would make life the best affair
all he wanted was a friend, i proved that i would be there
and that was the day he named me Teddy Bear