Horror Story by Kasper Van Es (16, Colorado)

You were born
Under silver rings and frigid white.
You were born
Against a wall
With quiet eyes
Screwed in like lightbulbs.
 
Are you hungry,
A deep aching pull
In between sinew and snapped bone?

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​Are you cold,
Under ice water lakes,
Slurped through a plastic straw?
 
I think there’s a monster
Buried under this house.
It scratches at the floorboards,
Roars at the cellar door.
 
It’s hands twist around soft hair.
It’s hands dig into muscle.
 
Are you scared
Of the shaking,
 screaming walls?
 
Are you good
At slamming deadbolts into place,
Twisting door knobs til they snap?
 
These walls and silver rings,
These corners you never left
Aren’t strong enough to keep your hands steady.
 
These glaring lights
Aren’t strong enough
To keep your shadow from sewing itself
To your wrists,
 
To your jaw.