He's not Real

Staring blankly at the darkness in front, hearing the ticking of a clock

Tick-tock, Tick-tock

Panic slowly starts to rise in the shadow-engulfed surroundings

As eyes adjust, the room becomes slightly recognizable

Calming down while identifying the object in front as the bedroom wall

A sigh of relief tried to escape parted lips only to gasp in surprise 

 

Arms, legs, head, hands, feet. Nothing

None would move

As if bounded by something or someone

 

The situation feels familiar, too familiar

Realization hit like ice-cold water

It's back

 

Panic courses rapidly through the body once more

A new presence is sensed from behind

Chills go down the spine as the presence feels closer with each ticking of the clock

Yet no movement can be produced, no words can escape desperate lips

 

He's not real, he's not real desperately repeated between other panicked thoughts 

He's not real, he can't be real

 

A new dent is felt on the bed 

The stare of the silent creature is burning, intimidating

Yet no movement 

Scream nor tears can't be created but the feeling of them is there

The presence finally reaches forward with its long slender fingers 

Feeling along the face of it's terrified victim 

 

Suddenly, sleep takes over again and the panic disappears at once 

All is well now, all is safe

 

All is well, until it's no

There is a familiar darkness ahead

A frustrated though passed by when no movement is produced once again

 

Desperate attempts to move lead to more frustration

An immense amount of terror builds up inside as each attempt fails

 

Then suddenly, as if by a miracle, a tingling is felt 

Such small feeling, such great relief 

A finger could be moved

The tingling sensation grew and soon a hand could slowly be moved 

The darkness around seemed to grow smaller with each new tingling sensation

It all ended once sleep won over and day came

 

A new nightlight and a note was added into the bedroom

And a new routine was formed;

The nightlight on before bed

And always remember; be calm, he's not real

This poem is about: 
Me

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741