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Count the Wolves and We'll Sleep Tonight

I live in a house where all the doors are closed they hide away the secrets that can’t ever be told. I live behind these doors hidden away, no one knows what goes on within my head; or the monsters the closet stows. One by one, the lights go out, but the darkness cannot hide I walk past closed doors that monsters hide behind. They shriek at the door, it shakes in the frame fumbling with the handle wondering how they became the ghost that moans and the monster that leers, trapped behind the doors to cover up our fears. Their hands reach out in that space underneath clawed hands, fumbling, hear them gnash their teeth. I look down in the dark the closed doors line the hall wonder how we’ve become the secrets, the lies, the fall. And these day dreams fill my head though the hour reads late I walk light so no one awakes Aeolus knocks at the gate. But, others hear what they wish so even if I were to scream they’d only hear everything else thinking it a bad dream. For we are masters of pretending spending our lives shutting doors hiding away our secrets too big to fit in dresser drawers. I can’t sleep with all their howling so I’m left to wander alone the hallway and pray I do not fall victim. But old locks and frames so easily betray me to the monster who is persistent and the doors they all crumble. Unleashed I must face what lies beyond the madness that they mumble. I cannot hide from their truths the grotesque and the beauty. We’ve made monsters of our secrets and they hold us to this cruelty. Forced to hide behind locks I live in this house suppressed by sadness victim to their bite, I suffer secret’s sorrow only to end up contemplating madness.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2011

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Date: 7/8/2011 7:30:00 AM
I have enjoyed reading your excellent poetry this morning Madison. I hope you have a wonderful weekend filled with good health, love, laughter, and loads of inspiration. Love, Carol
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