Calling all poets. Submissins are open for Wingword Poetry Competition!

The monster under my bed

Aadya Bahl

The monster under my bed
Craddles me to sleep
The ringing sound of the lullaby
Caressing my head .

I wake up to find his side empty ,
The lingering warmth an indication of his presence.
Last night was as special as the others
But where this goes now , only time will tell.

I walk into the room and there he is,
Claiming the space as his own,
As I cower , shivering,
He pulls me under the duvet .

Little does he know
The darkness and I are well versed with one another .

He figures it out eventually
No longer entertained ,
Moves on to his next prey
As I sleep cradling myself .

I wake up and the world is different
The air is lighter ,
The room , brighter.
The ashes of his cigarette still lay sprinkled.

Brush those off the carpet ,
Throw those t-shirts into a garbage bag.
Toxicity , my enemy
But submissive me , falters when he’s in sight .

Days pass
A routine sets in .
This time filled with smiles and sunshine
Maybe I got lucky.

So I start going out again ,
With my girlfriends that I missed
Brunches and lunches ,
Dates that feel perfect .

Tonight is a night for me ,
Bubble bath and a cup of tea
A knock on my door
And time seems to stop .

He’s here
I know he is ,
My senses are only in overdrive when he’s around ,
My hands are clammy and my hear rate is off the charts.

Do I let him in ?
To break the broken , taped together vase again
Or do I stay silent ?
Hoping he’ll come back another day .

Another day ,
When I’ll have the courage to face him.
Another day ,
When I can tell him I don’t want him or need him or love him.

But I’m too scared of the consequences.
So I open that door ,
I open it just an inch
But it’s enough for him to work his charm.

So that night he craddles me ,
Singing a lullaby ,
As I cry myself to sleep , yet again.


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