Dirty Little Demon

I couldn't stop myself long enough to see straight.  I felt as though I wasn't even here, like I was in my own, scary little dreamworld.  My hands were shaking, my palms began to sweat, and I was cold all over.  I couldn't stop, and I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being followed.1

I tried to ignore the thought, but soon it became a little monster in the back of my head, growing to the size of my whole brain over time.  Needless to say, my head hurt.  Each time it pounded, I heard "I'm here, I'm here, I'm here".  I couldn't take it.  Who could be logical with an anxious monster inside their head?  I ran. 2

In my bare feet and silk nightgown, I jumped out my window.  The landing sent tingles up my calves, filtering through my thighs.   The dew on the grass felt cold on my feet.  "I'm here," the monster said.  A chill went up my spine.  What was I waiting for?  I ran.3

It could have been minutes, or hours. But after awhile, I noticed that my head had been clear for quite some time.  The monster surely moved from my head to my heart; I noticed that its hand had a firm grip around my heart.  I was short of breath and found it difficult to breathe. My legs were patchy and they stung.  The weeds had whipped at them and broken the skin in some places.   My feet were bloody and sore.  I held my toes, and let a few tears escape.  I rocked myself back and forth.  Finally, I had my own brain back, and I couldn't even decide what to do with it.  An early memory of my mother came to me, and I sang myself to sleep.4

"Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens5

Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens6

Brown paper packages tied up with strings7

These are a few of my favorite things..."8

The monster is gone as long as I sing.9