Rory Galbraith | + Follow Poet |
Prose Poetry | + Fav Poem | Comment | Email | Print |

Scared, Really Scared

It’s there in the darkest corner of his room 
there where he takes off his shoes and socks and just leaves them
the place that his Mom said that she is going to leave as is from now on
it’s just sitting there grinning
he can’t see it clearly but it’s there
just waiting
as soon as he closes his eyes it’s gonna streak across the room 
and rip his face off with its razor sharp claws
why did it come to his room
it should have gone to nerdy Norman’s room 
no, to big fat bully Billy’s room
he can’t hear it breathing
‘cause its sitting there with its mouth wide open 
slowly breathing in and out past big yellow teeth
just waiting
his eyelids are getting heavy
he shakes his head from side to side 
to keep awake he thinks of terrible things
like the time big ole spotty Betty stole his lunch 
and stamped on it with her big ole leather sandals 
right there in the playground in front of everyone
or the time that Nathan whose Dad is super rich 
snapped all his pens and pencil in half 
right there in the classroom in front of the English teacher 
and got 3 days detention
all this remembering has made him as mad as a snake 
he now wants it to come streaking across the room to rip his face off
‘cause he is good and mad and ready for it
he is tired of always taking it, and taking it, and taking it
he is now ready to do some giving
he closes his eyes squinch-face tight 
inches up further against the headboard 
clenches his fists as tight as tight can be
kicks the blankets onto the floor 
and waits, and waits, and waits
eventually he opens his right eye just a smidge 
and looks over to where it is
it’s still there sitting quietly
not moving not breathing
his older brother’s big ole back-pack 
that he borrowed for a camping trip with Dad and uncle Lonnie.

Copyright © Rory Galbraith | Year Posted 2024

Please Login to post a comment