“I’m scared” he says,

“Daddy, It comes when you leave,

It smells like it’s broken and it hungers for me,

It’s there every night, it watches me sleep,

It lives in dark places, where it crawls and creeps

All over the bones of the things that it eats!”



“Hush now son, you know monsters aren’t real,

We’ll speak no more of this, you’ll keep your lips sealed!

You’ll wake in the morning, safe and sound in your bed,

With not a single hair harmed on your—”



“But…. It likes to eat children, for we taste the best,

It scoops out our eyes, then throws out the rest,

Into a big pot, where we stew and steam,

And we’re boiled down to a cocktail of dreams.”



“I said that we’re finished! You’ll do as you’re told!

And you don’t need this nightlight, You are far too old!

I have things to do, son, leave me alone!

Why must I tuck you in? You are near fully---”



“And in our places, it leaves in our beds,

A nice pretty doll, with sawdust in its head,

The doll will grow up, get a job and die old,

The doll will always do what it’s told,

And doll will have children, as all good dolls do,

And then in the night, it will come for them too.”