the birds are chirping outside my car window
but other than that,
the silence is like a blanket over me.
I embrace it,
thinking of the baby
who cries through the night
waiting patiently at home
for me to get off work
so he can further dominate my life.
I then think back to when my father would tell me
there weren't any monsters in my room.
he checked behind the creaky closet door,
under the dark side of the bed
which was guarded by a dust ruffle,
and he even stilled the rippling curtains
swearing it was the air conditioning
causing the movement,
but he didn't have the balls
to tell me the truth.
To tell his son
that he, my father, was looking the monster directly in his eyes,
because in fact
I now know the monster hiding in my room
There will come a day
when my son,
and midnight moaning monster,
will ask me to check his room
and I will do nothing
but hold a mirror to his face.
I sat up in my car seat
and began rolling the window up,
the birds still chirping
but now all I could hear
was a haunting
as the baby birds
cried for their papa
to check the nest for monsters.