The Bogey-Man
Once, when I was very young,
I was afraid, very afraid,
Of what I called the Bogey-man.
They told me he lurked under my bed,
With long fingers, groping fingers,
Searching, reaching, to catch hold of me.
He had jagged teeth, they said,
That’d tear into me, deep into me
And leave every bit of me in shreds.
He’d hurt me till I cried, they said,
And crush me in his unbreakable grip,
And leave me no way to escape.
Child that I was, I feared the unknown, the dark,
And sought safety, temporary safety,
In my blanket-cocoon at night.
Years passed, and I forgot my terror,
Dismissed my inner child’s foolishness;
I ventured into the real world.
I grew strong and tall, and unafraid,
Undaunted by the dark, the alluring, exciting dark,
And laughed at my vestigial dread.
Years passed, and the Fates smiled,
And bestowed on me good fortune - very good fortune;
All was light, and naught was shadowed.
Until I met him, the Bogey-Man.
Disguised, devious, deceptive.
He made day night, and light dark.
He came for me, just like they said.
He tore, and ripped, and jabbed, and shred!
And hurt me.
Horrid, horrifying hurt.
And killed me inside.
And broke me outside.
As I lay sullied, wounded and bloodied,
Shivering and cold, so very cold,
I thought to my shattered self:
Fool. Idiot. Blind, stupid, careless, stupid, foolish idiot.
Why did you think you could escape?
That he wouldn't come for you?
That you were safe?
That the dark wasn’t hiding fearsome things?
You'll pay. Your fault. It's all your fault.
You will never be safe, never, never,
Ever, ever be safe.
No light, no warmth, no love
Can ever chase away that cold.
Nothing will be
As constantly familiar,
As soothingly disturbing
As that darkness.
In sleep, in waking nightmare.
Always, till memory died.
And after that death, a little longer still.
~ ACM
(Original 27 Sep 2010, rev. 03 March 2020)
I was afraid, very afraid,
Of what I called the Bogey-man.
They told me he lurked under my bed,
With long fingers, groping fingers,
Searching, reaching, to catch hold of me.
He had jagged teeth, they said,
That’d tear into me, deep into me
And leave every bit of me in shreds.
He’d hurt me till I cried, they said,
And crush me in his unbreakable grip,
And leave me no way to escape.
Child that I was, I feared the unknown, the dark,
And sought safety, temporary safety,
In my blanket-cocoon at night.
Years passed, and I forgot my terror,
Dismissed my inner child’s foolishness;
I ventured into the real world.
I grew strong and tall, and unafraid,
Undaunted by the dark, the alluring, exciting dark,
And laughed at my vestigial dread.
Years passed, and the Fates smiled,
And bestowed on me good fortune - very good fortune;
All was light, and naught was shadowed.
Until I met him, the Bogey-Man.
Disguised, devious, deceptive.
He made day night, and light dark.
He came for me, just like they said.
He tore, and ripped, and jabbed, and shred!
And hurt me.
Horrid, horrifying hurt.
And killed me inside.
And broke me outside.
As I lay sullied, wounded and bloodied,
Shivering and cold, so very cold,
I thought to my shattered self:
Fool. Idiot. Blind, stupid, careless, stupid, foolish idiot.
Why did you think you could escape?
That he wouldn't come for you?
That you were safe?
That the dark wasn’t hiding fearsome things?
You'll pay. Your fault. It's all your fault.
You will never be safe, never, never,
Ever, ever be safe.
No light, no warmth, no love
Can ever chase away that cold.
Nothing will be
As constantly familiar,
As soothingly disturbing
As that darkness.
In sleep, in waking nightmare.
Always, till memory died.
And after that death, a little longer still.
~ ACM
(Original 27 Sep 2010, rev. 03 March 2020)
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