The Night She Cried



The Night She Cried

“Chrisss,” it whispered.

Loud enough to wake me from my sleep.

Now only silence and darkness followed by

A woman’s whimpering as she weeps.


I can keep lying here imagining

All the strange things it could be.

But I feel the need to check my kids.

I feel the need to see.


Or maybe the need to be prepared

For what evil might be lurking.

To check beyond the window blinds

For eyes that might be looking.


To check beyond the closed up door

That leads to above our bed.

Into the attic filled with dusty things

Above where I rest my head.


And all the dead, forgotten people

Who’d once held the Genovese name.

All the grandpas and the uncles

And the cousins and their dames.


All the same to me, I’d rather not

Climb up onto that ladder.

Rather not be brave or peek inside

To find the source of the random clatter.


Doesn’t matter, let her bawl and sob.

Let her taunt me here.

But I am going back to bed right now,

To hell with all her tears.


Cause my fears are strong and my wife’s asleep

So fuck that bravery shit.

I’ma keep my nervous ass downstairs

Till that ghost calls it quits.


Until she sits right next to me

On this bed and asks me if I care.

Until she grabs me by the arm

And tells me, “I’m right fucking here!”


I’m right here and I refuse to set

My legs upon the floor.

I refuse to take a single step

Outside this bedroom door.


At my core, I know there’s something wrong.

There’s something in this house.

There’s creaking and there’s squeaking

And it’s not a fucking mouse.


My mouth is feeling dry

And my hairs are standing up.

My wife is dreaming peacefully

While my heart begins to thump.


There’s a bump and then a croak

And then a whine and then a moan.

I hear children out there singing

And I feel so all alone.


They’re out there giggling and laughing,

While my kids quietly sleep.

Sounds like a playground in the kitchen

While my kids don’t make a peep.


I can’t keep myself together

So I’m here falling apart.

I’m wrapped up in this blanket

And can’t calm my racing heart.


So I start to nudge my wife a bit

And ask if she’s awake.

She’s not so I make sure she is

With a persistent little shake.


I take her hand and rub it

And I tell her I need help.

That I’m hearing things and to tell the truth

I’m simply scared as hell.


A bell tolls in the distance

And my wife’s eyes change to red.

I fear a demon has taken over her body

And it seems I’m good as dead.


Her head transforms to that of a beast

With fangs and a wrinkled face.

Her body is covered in blisters and hair

And I fear she wants a taste.


She wastes no time in killing me

As her nails rake out my eyes.

She cackles as I gurgle blood

And I choke upon my cry.


As I fade I kind of wish

I’d checked on all that crying.

Maybe then I’d be here fast asleep

Instead of slowly dying.


© Carver Pike

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