70 Degree Day

These are for you, Stringer.

Words for Monsters

The monsters that were here last night
Linger.
That’s not the only word for it—
I can think of so many other words for what it is that monsters do.
They hulk,
Breathless and Taloned
Between the panes of the window
And the screen to the porch.
They crouch,
Insidious whisperers,
In all the corners of our conversations.
They bleed,
Calling to mind the Ghosts of HeartBreaks Past
And the Shadows of Those To Come…

The monsters that were here last night
Are surprised.
I can tell.
They believe you.
When you say their names aloud,
When you gaze into their hiding spaces
Boldly.
Perhaps they are no match for you,
Because you know all the languages they speak.
Hero.
Villain.
You switch from interrogator to interlocutor
Instantly.
JustLikeThat.
You tell me that you are here for me—
That these monsters are no match for you.
And when I laugh,
And tell you that I am used to them,
And I don’t need your help
And I am unimpressed with your heroics,
You remind me
That everyone needs rescuing once in a while.

The monsters that were here last night
Are weakened
But they are not erased.
Villain.
Hero.
The monsters that were here last night
Are students of the Abyss,
They study the cracks in our façade.
They taste our strengths like acids
And test our fears like lemon drops.
They are waiting for you to slip.