I think of things that scare me
Sometimes in the dark of night
A scratching at the window
Is all it takes to switch on the light.
I creep around, keeping watch,
Making sure every bolt is safely locked.
I know it’s a silly notion,
Living on the third floor,
Sometimes still I imagine a shape,
Silhouetted beyond the balcony door.
Joy and sorrow, pleasure and pain
They trickle down your face the same
Keeps my mind in check
I’m fading, fading,
I’m fading again.
Sprinting to the end of my words,
The ghost of you,
An empty room.
Helloooo I’m alive
Startled, dreary, drool sticking to me, I fall off the couch
What is that sound?
Why do I care?
I look. The microwave is singing.
No doubt bringing some molten cheese or other into being
But for a good minute all I can do is stare.
…what the fuck did I put in there??
Don’t you hate it when you put something in the microwave, and just…have absolutely no memory of it happening?
This is something I wrote a little while ago that I’m hoping I can someday turn into some kind of an illustrated kid’s book. It’s silly and by no means perfect, but I wanted to give a little breather in the midst of all the sad. Also, if anyone has suggestions for a better ending, please let me know! I’ve been struggling with it a lot.
Licorice mice and sugar sea horses. Chocolate rivers and peach-ring rainforests. Candy corn groves that we harvest after summer. The candy is at its best right before it’s coldest. Picking up to give away, we work very hard everyday. For the ghosts and ghouls that give us a fright, as we get ready for Halloween night.
The monsters come to every door, wondering what treats could be in store. Candy apples! Eyeball goo! Spider rings, and pumpkin seeds, too! They ponder and nibble until their feet are sore, and they find themselves at a familiar door. But once the little monsters are safe at home, the real fright fest begins to roam.
For once a year on Halloween night, the real monsters come out, all ready to bite. They gather the extra goodies and treats, and then those big ghouls all dance in the streets. They jump and jive, they sing and yell, the world comes alive as if under a spell. Then after a night so long and full of fun, light shines through the trees with the rising sun.
With bellies full and eyes all red, the monsters all go back to bed. “Say goodnight to the morning dawn” one monster says with an enormous yawn.
The excitement over, the monsters in bed, the kids wake up to think of Thanksgiving and Christmas instead!