Not for the Faint of Heart

I feel it again, slithering under my bed

There's a weird sensation in my head

It moves my mattress, squeaks my floor

That scaly thing has locked my door!



The hinges creak my mind starts to burn

Panic surrounds me, there's nowhere to turn

The shadow creature joins in to torment for a while

I wish I could awaken from this movie so vile



The morn emerges through the blackness

My soaking, wet pillow do I caress

Horrors happened those hours before

My legs are weak; I crawl on the floor



But only I know the root of evil that lies ahead

It's that empty tequila monster under my bed!

Must gather my strength to find a refill

Or face the day a bit green under the gill



So if you suffer from my distraction

wee hours tend to hold all the action

Of imagination running amok

To this I say--you're out of luck!