[creaks, hands, etc.]

The night hushes

in my ear,

whispering to me

in tones of blue-static.

I

am

unafraid.

When did I stop being afraid?


When did every creak

become just a creak

and not a monster,

when did empty dark

become empty

and not filled with hands ready to grab,

when

did

I

stop

being

afraid?

When I realised

there

are

much

worse

things

than

what

hides

under

the

bed.