Scissors roam my hallways
Cutting through the spindly legs
Of things that want to harm me-
Things that wear a different face
Every time I meet them.

Hammers gather in the yard
That’s overrun with trouble,
Ready to march up and smash
The jagged rocks that trip me
And would ******* me forever.

Saws line the bedroom walls
Where nightmares lurk in corners,
Hoping to devise a way
To spring to life in daytime.
But the saws keep them at bay.

The scythe hides in the garden shed
Keeping watch for dangers,
Waiting for the purple moon
That signifies the time is right
To sally forth and take me.
ljm