I slept with my door open
Footsteps down the hall;
Left, right, creak, pause
The insides of my eyelids become an abyss
Left, right, left, right (faster…)
Left, right, left, right (faster!)
Left, right, left, right (FASTER!)
Left, right; It reaches my door frame
The weight vanishes ‒‒ I open my eyes
Silence.
Like there always has been.

I face my open door
The heaviness returns ‒‒ my eyes close
Creak, right, left, right, pause
The void covering my eyes arrives
An outline pierces through my sight
Left, right…
It sits on the edge of my bed
“It’s very nice to be invited in,
People… remarkably quick to lock me out”
A pointed nail drags against my arm
“People…”
The outline against the abyss reveals a set of claws
“Extraordinarily soft people,”
The weight is broken through
I look around the darkness
Silence.
Like there always has been.

I try to sleep with the door open
The heaviness is aggressive this time
It’s outline sits, looming over me
“I have not been in many rooms,
Yours is the most stimulating.”
It envelopes my vision
I feel a warm breath on my ear
“I have always wondered…
If the human is still alive when I bite it
Will it scream?”
I feel a set of razor sharp teeth settle onto my neck
I struggle to break through the weight
My eyes open
Silence.
Like there always has been.

Who sleeps with their door open?
The force closing my eyes swallows me
The creature’s outline flops
against the black backdrop
It’s thorny teeth the only visible ****** feature
“Before I go, I must request something”
It shifts closer to me in bed
A whisper speaks,
“Look me in the eye.”
The weight wrestles me
I win by stubbornness
When I look around my room, I see
Silence.
Like there always has been.

I tried sleeping with my door open
The heaviness hits me like a wave
slamming against rocks
Along with its teeth,
The outline attained eyes
Bulging through a skull,
littered with cracks
“Thank you,”
Its blade-like teeth spread
“It’s good to know I’m welcome here.”

When I awake, I hear
Silence.
Like there always has been.
I look towards my door…
It’s closed,
Which is odd,
because I’m certain I fell asleep with it open.

Open your eyes
“...”
Look at me
and tell me what I have become.
I cannot see for myself
My reflection melts mirrors
and turns puddles into vapor
I glare into the abyss
Hoping to catch a glimpse of my own pupils
I don’t know what I look like
Tell me,
How will my eyes look
when our stares meet for the first time?
“Empty”
Yes, I tore out the soul
Behind the doors of flesh covering my eye sockets
I have scraped my nails against bone
As my fingers pressed into my eyes
and carved out the consciousness that possessed me

Open your eyes
“...”
I need to know how my skin pulsates
What undulating form has it taken today?
Can you hear it?
Gurgling restlessly
My shape refuses to remain consistent
Tell me,
What will my body look like
when you lay eyes on me?
“Damaged”
Yes, I am wounded
The color crimson oozes from my pores
It sticks to my flesh possessively
I collect chunks of the liquid on my skin
As I imagine it decorates me nicely

Open your eyes
“...”
I need you to describe my limbs
For I always feel that I am reaching
for something I cannot obtain
My fingers squirm
into tight crevices and holes they are unwelcome in
Like curious, thoughtless insects
Unaware of the consequences for prying
Tell me,
What will my limbs appear as
when you set sight on me?
“Demented”
Yes, I have fought against conformity
by twisting my bones out of line
Listen. Hear each splintering cracks
defining how I am different

Open your eyes
“...”
You have to answer what my expression looks like
I can never seem to sync my face with my emotions
It’s tricky to coordinate such complex ideas
Tell me,
What will my expression be
when you finally gaze upon me?
“Grinning”
Yes, I’m afraid I can’t change that
I carved my smile with a butcher’s knife
from ear to ear
So I wouldn’t have to fake it anymore

Now open your eyes
“...”
Tell me what I have become
Shackle me to my image
Let me stare back at someone
who sees me for the first time.
Look at me.