By Sophia Whitmore
Close the curtains with your shaking hands
Climb into bed on your unsteady legs
Pull the blankets over your head
and find comfort in your dark chrysalis
Do not think about what might wait outside,
disguised by the night
You saw nothing
Heard nothing
And yet you can’t shake the small, timid voice
in the back of your mind
whispering that something is watching you
with hungry eyes and blood on its hands
Ignore that voice
Pretend you are a statue
made from solid stone,
still and sturdy and unafraid
Will your muscles to stiffen
and your heartbeat to be slow and steady
Let your mind wander into an uneasy sleep
In the morning, you will look outside your bedroom window
and you will see there was never anything there
No monster
No beast
No animal
Just gnarled trees and the cold night air
Why are you pointing, my love?
Why are you trembling?
Don’t tell me there’s something behind me
It was just the wind
that blew the window open
Wasn’t it?