Over Active Imagination

January 26, 2011
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I am in my bed.
Burrowed deeply in the cool, starched sheets.
I peek my head through my fortress,
and feel the cold gnaw at my nose.
Eyes zeroed in on the door.
Did it just move?
Am I mistaken, or did it just crack open?
Why are red eyes peering back?
Breathing ragged, and heavy.
Feeling the red eyes steal my sense of security.
I duck my head back under the blanket.
And swear I won't look out again.
Curiosity unsettles my stomach.
I wriggle against my will.
I feel my arm reach the chilled air,
shrugging the blankets away from my face.
I refuse to open my eyes.
But curiosity nips at them.
I see hazy shapes and haloed lights, dim.
As they adjust to the dark again.
There it is, closer at the edge of my bed.
It steals away my skin,
and I give into its power.

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