when all the shadows shift

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫

I wake to the sound
of claws against floorboards.
the dark obscures
the creature
but I feel its breath
upon my neck.
I call it the
midnight monster.
when the clock strikes twelve,
the beginning of a new day,
it promptly appears.
⠀
I am not afraid
of the dark.
that is what we all say
until the mantra dries up
in our mouths.
I am not afraid
of the dark.
maybe one day
it will ring true.
⠀
we do not speak,
this monster and me.
I do not know
what it wants from me.
every time I go to speak,
the words slip off my tongue
and into the darkness,
never to be seen again.
I do not beg
for them to return.
⠀
my mind is held captive
by this monster.
I do not have the means
to pay ransom.
a hurricane looms
on the horizon
and I am afraid
it will destroy me,
just like this monster
in possession
of my mind.
⠀
I am nothing
but a mere whisper
in the night,
trying to placate
the midnight monster
under my bed.
⠀
when dawn crawls
into the sky,
the midnight monster
is supposed to disappear.
I am supposed to breathe
without hindrance
from the shadows.
the walls are supposed to
stay surrounding me.
the sun is supposed to
feel warm against my skin.
but whenever I lay eyes
on myself in the mirror,
the midnight monster
is still there.
⠀
the midnight monster
is me.