The Monster in my Closet...

A poem about childhood horror nightmares of the monster who lived under your bed, or in your closet.

 There was a noise from the closet door.

Knock... Knock...

There was an uneasy feeling across my body.

Was I dreaming?

Was I awake?

Was I dead?

The scratching from the glass as it pressed against one another.

There was a noise from the closet door.

The image of my childhood boogie-man.

Who haunted my nights.

And hid through my days.

Was he real?

Was he alive?

Was he here?

The doors had opened in front of my eyes.

The image of my childhood boogie-man.

His pale white face and long black eyes.

Staring through my soul intensely.

He moved with terrifying actions.

A murderous smile?

An evil intention?

A killer before me?

He took the first step towards my shaking body.

His pale white face and long black eyes.

The smell of death from his body.

Knowing he was not a living creature.

But a creature nonetheless.

Was he going to kill me?

Was I destined for death?

Or would he haunt me forever?

His eyes told me the story.

The smell of death from his body.

His teeth were rotten and sharp.

The smile on his face grew and showed his insane intentions.

His tongue split like a snake.

Would he tear me apart?

Would he bite my flesh?

Would he make me bleed?

The yellow and black marks across them.

His teeth were rotten and sharp.

The voice from deep within him.

Echoing whispers that took over the room.

He was haunting me at all times.

Could I really hear him?

Were the whispers real?

And did he mean what he said?

The anger and terror within the words.

The voice from deep within him.

The light that broke his confidence.

The morning awoke before us.

Saving my thoughts from his wrath of terror.

Was it all a dream?

Was it real, and he was hiding now?

Or was it all my imagination?

The night will soon be upon us again, and him also.

The light that broke his confidence.

The monster in my closet.

Who waited for the perfect time to emerge.

And to make the fear inside me present itself.

Was I always going to fear him?

Would he always make an appearance?

Was he finally going to leave?

At 23, the night still terrifying, because...

The monster in my closet.

Reviews

[Tepo]

Excellent debut write Heather
Welcome
You know he's going to hang about until you have a closer look
Thoroughly enjoyed the read
Ta