I still believe

 in the Boogey Man.

His image has changed

throughout the years.

His claws are now stress,

digging into my skin,

pulling out my hair.

His eyes glow yellow,

reflecting my insecurities,

and flicker with my poor choices.

His voice is no longer a growl,

but now the whispers of others,

judging and snickering

behind my back.

His fangs come in a new form,

the form of bills and finance;

as sharp as ever.

They bite into my bank account

and swallow up the contents.

He hides under my bed at night,

waiting for my foot to dangle,

waiting for me to stop dreaming.

Not even my covers can save me

 from the modern-day Boogey Man.

                                -Nicole Bevilacqua