Teeth Under the Bed

Teeth Under the Bed

Something scratched beneath the frame

Each night near half past three

A crooked rhythm filled the dark

Like bones dragged across concrete

I never looked beneath the sheets

Fear nested inside my chest

My bedroom smelled of rust and rain

Old grief soaked through every breath

Your photograph faced toward the wall

Eyes hidden from the naked bulb

Still I felt them watching me

Through every hour sleep refused

One dawn I knelt beside the floor

Cold fingers reached around my wrist

A mouth of teeth split through the dark

And whispered every name I missed

The curtains moved without the wind

Shadows stretched across the room

My heartbeat stumbled out of time

Like broken shoes on hollow floors

I heard wet breathing near my ear

Though no one stood beside the bed

The mattress dipped beneath unseen weight

While panic crawled beneath my skin

Moonlight spilled across the boards

Revealing scratches near the legs

Hundreds carved into the wood

Deep enough to split the grain

I never sleep with lights turned off

Still darkness gathers near the floor

Waiting underneath the bed

Patient as a funeral hymn

#Marie381UkWriter