"there are monsters outside"
she says.
"and they'll eat you up."
and i haven't stopped thinking about
my guts on the floor,
satellite dish on top of the roof,
wolf claws, wolf chops.
red all over.
so i started to lock the door to my room at night.
i miss the cool air that blew in to kiss my cheeks,
but i am afraid.
still, sometimes,
when i don't lock it,
it creaks open.
i worry he's there now, peeking.
from just under the bed,
i worry he has stretched his head up to stare at me.
i'm laying on my stomach,
under the sheets.
i will need to breathe soon.
— why do we sleep with the doors closed?
