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Literature Text
Dark thing lives in my ceiling
Above the white panels
Sometimes he comes down to play with me
But he has more fun than I do
He likes it when I’m scared, I think
He should be grateful
I found him in my school one day
An unwanted nightmare
He’s lived with me ever since
Call it a mutual relationship
He keeps me company
And watches over me, like a dark guardian angel
And in return, I scream when he bursts out of my closet
Or lifts up the ceiling panel
Slithering out like a shadow
One day, he says, he’ll eat me
Or I’ll go to sleep and never wake up
I laugh and tell him he’s not real
We both laugh at the absurdity of it all
At the inconsistency of a child’s nightmare
Above the white panels
Sometimes he comes down to play with me
But he has more fun than I do
He likes it when I’m scared, I think
He should be grateful
I found him in my school one day
An unwanted nightmare
He’s lived with me ever since
Call it a mutual relationship
He keeps me company
And watches over me, like a dark guardian angel
And in return, I scream when he bursts out of my closet
Or lifts up the ceiling panel
Slithering out like a shadow
One day, he says, he’ll eat me
Or I’ll go to sleep and never wake up
I laugh and tell him he’s not real
We both laugh at the absurdity of it all
At the inconsistency of a child’s nightmare
I wrote this in about three minutes because i felt like writing something not quite poetry, but not quite prose either. Or maybe it is, I really don't know.
When I was younger, I would often sleep in my basement, which has the cheap styrofoam public building ceiling panels for the ceiling. In the dark, I used to think Dark Thing came and lifted up the panels and came down to scare me. He lived in my closet when I was in my own room.
I guess this poem is about how, while I was scared of him, he was also an imaginary friend in a weird sort of way. But I did pick him up at school. I think we read a story about a person dressed all in black, with no face, and in my mind that manifested itself as dark thing, who was vaguely humanoid but all covered in black and shadows.
I was very uninventive at naming things when I was younger.
When I was younger, I would often sleep in my basement, which has the cheap styrofoam public building ceiling panels for the ceiling. In the dark, I used to think Dark Thing came and lifted up the panels and came down to scare me. He lived in my closet when I was in my own room.
I guess this poem is about how, while I was scared of him, he was also an imaginary friend in a weird sort of way. But I did pick him up at school. I think we read a story about a person dressed all in black, with no face, and in my mind that manifested itself as dark thing, who was vaguely humanoid but all covered in black and shadows.
I was very uninventive at naming things when I was younger.
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Oh my