Just a bunch of short sad poems 😎

They

I have my back against the bathroom cabinet
They look at me, my mind's inhabitant.

They are always there, watching me,
They are always there and they won't let me be,

They scare me because I know who they are,
They scare me because they are a scar,

They hold stuff from the past that I don't want,
They come to me to endlessly taunt,

In my room I lie on my bed, and turn off the light,
But for some reason that's when they arrive to give fright,

In my room there are things that block others,
In my room I try to dive deep under the covers,

In my room is a place they like,
Because they're always there to watch me by night,

But why are they so bad? you may think,
Well it's a problem with me that is quite distinct,

When I have my back against the bathroom cabinet
I stay,

When I turn in my bed to look at the wall
I don't dare stray,

Because there's a very special thing
I've learned about They,

They don't want you to see what
is a They,

When I sit in the bathroom I start to notice small details that I didn't before,
Like how the toilet paper is slightly ripped and the tiles are four by four,

Like the grout on the wall that at first I didn't see,
Or like They being right next to me

When I go to bed and turn over to look at the wall,
I shut my eyes and you'd think that's all,

But instead of They watching and leaving me be,
I feel instant panic overcome me,

I do it every night, and I don't know why,
Because I know it'll give me a fright, and I'll believe that I might die,

When it's quiet, that's when you notice they,
They is a thing that will lead you astray,

They is like a quiet person that you never notice,
Until no ones there They won't gain your focus,

They is not here, nor is They there,
But They is in fact everywhere,

When you finally decide to move from the bathroom you will feel horror
And you will run, as if running from an axe murderer

In my room, when I finally turn around,
I imagine being murdered, They emerging from the ground

But They never hurts me, but They knows They tried,
But maybe They wants to torture me  because They knows I've lied,

They knows me just as well as myself,
Maybe They is there, hiding on my shelf,

One thing I've learned about They, is that They doesn't want to be seen,
So never know the places where They has been,

In any area where an object blocks a place,
Can be logically assumed as the place They hides They's face,

Maybe there's a chair, a bathtub or a table,
But seeing They is a thing unable,

The only thing of They I can ever see,
Is a blacked out silhouette of a person, maybe 4ft.3

For such a short thing that I have saw,
You wouldn't except They to carry axes, knives and swords,

They has come to like the places I find safe,
But by being there the peacefulness will cave,

Note:

They is not a person, or an object
They is not a thing the last time I checked

They is both here
As They is there

They is inescapable
They is like air.

They is coming for me
Next time They won't just scare