There are monsters in your bedroom, there are creatures in the walls.
They skitter in the darkness and scratch concrete with their claws.
They whisper in your ears at night and tell you horrid things.
They fill your head with flames and scales and monstrous bat-like wings.
They'll call your name so sweetly, inviting you outside.
And once you're out they'll snatch you up to shadows where they hide.
They’ll strip you of your pleasant dreams, take the color of your eyes.
They’ll harvest all your laughter- they find it quite the prize.
They might not send you back inside, they might decide to keep you.
They’ll carve you into little bits, and think it best to eat you.
If you make it back indoors and to the safety of your room,
The monsters will be quick to smile; they'll see you again quite soon.
Perhaps you’re much too old for this, perhaps you can’t recall
The spirits that so plagued you back when you were small.
You tell yourself you’re unafraid as you lock your doors at night,
Yet you never look in darker corners when turning out the light.
The reason that you cannot sleep; the coffee you had that day.
Not the things you thought you heard the shade beside you say.
If there’s whispering in your head at night, it’s only in your mind.
You may decide to take a pill to steal the sleep you cannot find.
So throw salt across your shoulder, put a cross beside your bed,
String a clove of garlic, and hang it around your head.
Whatever makes you feel safe at night, whatever helps you sleep.
Remember, though, that not all monsters wait for night to fall to creep.