Bedtime Stories

You remember dragging
the baby blanket across
the floor to your room,

waiting for mom
to tuck you in
under the covers.

Darkness slips through
the door and settles
before mom can close it.

It hides in
the back of your mind
and in wall corners.

Floorboards moan under its
footsteps, you think it’s
mom and you’re safe.

It’s peeling from walls
like glue does on hands
and starts to grow legs.

The closet door
opens just a sliver
fingers folding over.

A brush past
the end of your bed
darkness folding under.

Alex Brandow graduated from Central Michigan University in May with a Bachelor of Science in English: Creative Writing. She struggles with third person bios, and is just starting to release poems into the publishing world. In her lifetime, she plans on leading a revolution one poem at a time.

1 Comment

  1. Another Great Poem! Really impressive stuff-I just “tuned in”, a few months ago, and am so glad that I did.

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