BrokenEchoes

  Some monsters walk in the daylight Some don’t live under the bed Or in children’s closets The moon doesn’t influence some Some monsters walk without shambling Some have healthy living skin Some eat a diet that doesn’t include brains Some look like you and me They scan your items at the market They walk their dogs and mow their lawns They vote and pay their taxes They drive carpools and set up playdates They work late, or have a drink at the bar They seem friendly and polite They fit in with every day folks But they are monsters nonetheless  

  I have traveled far And the road has been treacherous Will you open your home to me I would like to rest Perhaps purchase a meal if I may I see you have a big black dog His teeth are long and his growl is loud He makes me afraid Will you put him away I humbly seek your hospitality Just a short break Then I will be on my way And you will never see me again If you wish, I will go now Other travelers will use different tactics Something might happen to your pet Something may happen to your home May I sit with you Will you let me buy some bread and cheese We can trade stories I can tell you of my travels I would hear news of the nearby village I can mark your home So when future wanderers come this way You and yours will see no harm Thank you I appreciate your generosity

  When we were young Before we understood the world We sought out small dark spaces We slid under the bed We climbed into the dryer We closed ourselves up in the pumphouse We disappeared into the crawlspace We found solace in the kitchen cabinets We searched out these cramped places That could be shut off from view We were hiding from the monster in our home We were always found Now we are older I still shrink from the light I still pursue cramped dim hideaways I may always I hope you have fared better.

Neither of us is attentive I stopped listening when I was younger When he was younger too Back then he spoke in anger And listened to the bottle I shrank from his words Learned to distrust them I could say nothing that interested him He is older now, but communication hasn’t improved He listens to the book now Taking notice of little else He talks in feigned meekness Forgetting willfully the past barbarity My trust hasn’t recovered as fully as my bones His softer up-to-date language Does not penetrate my skin We talk,  but only superficially We speak, but it is formulaic And mundane We exchange words, But neither of us really says anything In a way The empty bland chatter hurts worse  Than the belts and backhands In another way It hurts far worse.

  Taking slow, measured steps Like walking in a minefield There is concealed danger in every direction Carnage a footstep away I am nearly paralyzed with fear But I can’t stay here I am wounded I need medical attention If I don’t get out of here, I will die I gingerly test the earth with each new step Knowing that the smallest mistake Will be catastrophic.