Jun 09

The Inevitable

It’s coming for us, that monster under the bed,
The one that keeps me awake at night,
Shivering with the possibilities of things to come
Or regrets that swamp me, as a storm swallows the sea.
If it were noise, it would leave me soundless
And confused, lying in a field of null;
If taste, the bitter explosion of acid or sugar
On my tongue. If sight, it would be the blinding brightness
Of staring into the heart of the sun
And being awed by its dual ability
To destroy and to create--
Potential in its purest form.
The monster is coming and I have no power to stop it;
It freezes me to my core,
Yet fills me with fire-- a fire so bright, sometimes
I can breathe and mistake it for the stars.
I can run, I can struggle, I can hide
Under the bed, but I can never escape---
And I know it.
I know it.
So instead, I shiver and shake,
Lying confused and overwhelmed and blind
Under the covers, warm and safe, awake with--
Nowhere to go, no one to go to
Because I cannot evade it and
That same monster hunts us all--
Individually, slowly, but with great patience;
And I am afraid
Of what its arrival will mean
And what will come of it.