Trick or Treat

Ding dong.

Oh, my heart —

look at all these monsters at my door.

"Trick or treat!"

I drop something good to eat,

and off they go

to the next poor soul

waiting behind a door.

I wait for more.

Little monsters,

masks slightly askew,

bright doe eyes

peeking through.

But I’ve seen real horror.

Monsters with skin

just like yours and mine.

Not werewolves.

Not vampires.

Nor ghosts haunt my mind.

Darkness doesn't threaten me

like it did when I ran

from my bedroom

to my snoring parents.

I’ve seen them

walking in daylight.

I’ve felt them

when the birds go silent,

when the forest holds its breath,

when the hairs on my neck rise

an ancient skill from a past life

Not a beast.

Not a storm.

Just a man

smiling on the street

having a good time.

And I hope

the scariest thing you ever know

is me —

opening the door,

cackling like a witch,

handing out candy

with a toothy grin.

Because in the swapping of sweets,

in the rustle of plastic wrappers,

there are tears —

for the children

we couldn’t protect.