What If?

"The best thing a parent can do for a child is love them and take them for who they are." Maurice Sendak

(Mr. Sendak lived with his partner for 50 years but was never able to tell his own parents that he was gay.)
 

What if I can't fall asleep

from the monster under my bed?

What if I miss dinner?

Will I starve until I'm dead?

What if I ran away from home?

Would you look for me?

What if I said I hated you?

Would you hate me back times 3?

What if sometimes I don't want

to have a baby brother?

What if I still suck my thumb

or wet my new bed cover?

What if I'm still scared of thunder

or afraid of the dark?

What if you love my sister more

and leave me at the park?

What if I do bad at school

and I'm really not that smart?

What if I think about you dying

or imagine us apart?

What if I make a bad mistake

and can't ever make it right?

What if I'm not good at sports?

do you think you might
Love me if I say I'm gay
still love me If I dared?
'cause I don't want to lose you
and I'm really, really scared.

submitted for dVerse Poetics, Sendak & the Wild Things, at dVerse Poets Pub

Monsters

Childhood monsters 

image source

Can be vanquished

With a flashlight

A magic wand

Another glass of water

Some monsters are appeased

With rituals

No toes sticking out of the covers

And it won't nibble them off

Flush the toilet,count to ten, and run back to bed

It can't get you until eleven

Even the ones who dwell under the bed

Or in the closet

And have pointy teeth and yellow eyes

Won't cross the threshold

Of a parent's bedroom

Even they follow the rules

Then one day you overhear

A hushed conversation

While playing with Legos

Or coloring with your new crayons

You hear the word "monster"

And the grown-ups faces don't look quite right

One day a neighbor girl

Teases you and says 

"Better not go outside by yourself-you'll get raped."

And you ask your mother what that means

And then you wish you hadn't 

But you can't take it back now

It's 1974

The grown-ups have that look again

And you ask who Adam Walsh is anyway?

Then you learn

That the monsters are real

And they don't play by the rules now.

submitted for the Thursday Think Tank, #46, Monsters at Poets United

The Ouija Board

A gaggle of giggling girls
We gather again
Sit in a circle
Behind a closed door
On the cold, pink bathroom tile

We are
     HUSHED
By our leader
And owner of the game
Made to remember and repeat
Our oaths
     Of HONESTY
    And SECRECY

The question is posed
The light switch is flipped
     then DARKNESS
Nervous laughter
     Shhh...

We gently place our finger tips on the pointer
And wait
Our heartbeats pounding loudly in our ears
And quickly in our still boyish chests

Then
Ever so slowly
The pointer begins to move...

submitted for Magic in the Backyard's Wish Jar