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Dreams come clearly as I lie in my bed,
thinking of the creatures alive below me.
I cautiously draw up the comforter edge.
Beneath the mattress,
beneath the sheets,
beneath the platform,
I see them and withdraw quickly.
They are there!
The demons,
the Daimos,
the creatures that scream in my nightmares.
Two of them, living in the dark, dankness under me.
I feel them watching, always watching.
In daylight I gather my courage and chase them,
but they are too quick and simply scurry away into the shadows.
At night they chase me, climbing beneath the covers on my bed,
gently tickling my legs and sniffing my fingers,
just to remind me that they are always there,
always watching, always ready to pounce,
leaving fluffs of demon mane entangling me as I sleep.
If I sleep.
Sleep comes more scarcely each agonizing night.
In my night terrors I open my eyes and see them upon my chest,
their eyes staring
their ears listening,
their long teeth gnashing,
as I feel their warm breath,
slowly, exhaling in my face, teasing me.
They know there is nothing I can do.
My limbs ridged in sleep paralysis,
they taunt me.
My only desire is to rid myself of their presence
and the fear.
Beings of the night, hiding from the sun,
silent and ominous in their ubiety.
I look again and there they remain,
moving with each wisp of breeze.
The horrid sight I see.

The mesmerizing dance of my abhorrent dust bunnies.


09/04/2024

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