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Writer's pictureRei

Nothing to Fear (poem)

hiding from the things that go bump in the night in your mind doesn’t make them any less monster


an illuminated yellow butterfly amongst shadows
an illuminated yellow butterfly amongst shadows

Amorphous shadows hiding beneath creaky beds

and in dingy closets and shoved under Persian rugs.

There is no other name more fitting for such silhouettes than “monster.”

Monsters of subspecies unknown that grow more and more by the day

when I don’t give them the time of day

and keep the lights on all night to keep them at bay

and play max-volume music to keep out their grunts and growls.

I’m not ready to slay them let alone face them—No, not now.

My steps and breaths come much more easy breezy

when I just leave them in the places I don’t care to look.

Maybe my negligence will make them disappear.

Maybe some shooting star will grant me this one wish:

This here is far too crowded; take it all away for a while

but leave behind the scent of chamomile.


But what if there were no actual monsters in the first place?

What if I give these ominous shapes the time of day

and turn off the lights at sundown

so they can come out to play?

What if I listen to them,

validate their pain even?

Would they devolve back to

a scared child

that looks just like me?


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