Darkness descending

My finger itches

as it switches

the light off.

-

The darkness is quick,

descending on my skin,

dousing my sight.

-

Bare feet shuffle

across cool wooden slats,

kicking a dustball.

-

The space beneath my mattress,

a foot and a half between frame

and floor, yawns wide.

-

The darkness is thicker here,

like black paint

curdled in the can.

-

In my core,

a seeded fear takes root,

buried in its own sort of blackness.

-

Something lurks there,

quietly waiting for me

to step close enough.

-

My ankles tingle,

imagining a gnarled hand

snatching at me.

-

Those nails would dig in,

all yellowed and green,

cracked and chewed.

-

They’d drag me down,

that inky space beneath

revealing a monstrous world.

-

Each minute would be drowned

in echoing screams and blazing fires

until I am nothing but flayed skin.

-

I swallow hard,

taking a small step forward,

And then leap in the air.

-

My shin bashes against the footboard,

tugging free a yelp,

but I am safely aboard.

-

Blankets will shelter me, and the

plushness of the mattress

serves as a fortress.

-

the Flames,

the Hands,

can’t reach me here.