The monsters are here

The monsters are here

I close my eyes so tight in bed,

but monsters creep inside my head.

Their whispers slither through the dark,

sharp as teeth, cold and stark.

Beneath the bed, behind the door,

they talk, they breathe,

just like the night before .

Not flesh, not bone,

but thoughts that bite,

feeding on my sleepless night.

I hold my breath, I clench my fists,

but still, they lurk within the mist.

And though I fight, though I pretend,

they are driving me round the bend.

The night is long, the air is thin,

these monsters live beneath my skin.

In my ears and in my fast-beating heart.

I am either a stain or this is the start.

Sometimes faces in my closed eyes,

sometimes whispers.

They all tell lies.

I feel them prod and poke.

These mental Harry’s are no joke.

Then daylight comes to disappear.

Now I can sleep for an hour without fear.