Poetry – Bedtime


Every night is the same.
Make dinner, eat, clean up, put the kids to bed, go to sleep.
Very repetitive.
Except lately…Since we moved into our new home, the children complain about a woman they see at
night.
I, however, do not see this woman. Our dog has also been very unhappy and I’ve had to shush him more
than I ever have before.
Old dog keeps barking at our kitchen window and it drives me crazy.
What bothers me the most is all of the new noises.
Once everyone is in bed, I go to take a bath.
I feel hands around my throat but I turn to the mirror and see no one.
“Anxiety can make you feel weird things.” Says my husband.
He’s probably right.
But the bruises are getting worse.
I know I should go see a doctor but I can’t make myself leave the house.
I find myself in odd places at night too, without any recollection of how I got there or what I was doing.
I’ve had to put back several knives from the kitchen, close windows and doors, and even turn off the
stove several times.
At night, I hear the crying over and over again but it’s all in my head.
I find myself standing over my children’s bed in the dark with a pillow in my hand and a haze in my
thoughts.
But I just need sleep.
Eventually, things must get better, right?
But, every night is the same.

This was written by our contributing writer, Isis Jordan.


Posted

in

Tags:

Comments

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *