Like a child,
I play pretend
I run and hide from the monsters
unlike a child
I have no one to check under the bed
in the closet
behind the door
I live alone
and find comfort in that
but I cannot be my own caregiver
the difficulties in my wants are oxymoronic what I want and what I need are playing tennis
the ball constantly bouncing back-and-forth face and conquer
or fear and cower
the match has yet to end

-- they are undefeated in their own fields