nightlight

there were 2 nightlights 
in my bed room & each got brighter 
each time you touched them.
i crouch in the corner tapping
the warm opaque glass surface as the light
blooms from dim to bright to gleaming.
all around me the shadows stand up straight
in the brightness--growing bolder 
as the nightlight swells. one in each corner.
one behind the rocking chair & one behind 
the rubber tree & the fern. plants
pressing spinal shapes across walls--
across my face as a stood on the other side
resisting the urge to flick on 
the overhead light. what was there 
to be frightened of that the light
saved me from? i make slanted 
shadow puppets. i move the rocking chair
with my hand to watch the shadows
whip like windshield wipers but 
then the rocking becomes phantom 
& i'm terrified. i wish my parents
would stand in the corner like
those two plants. mom, the rubber tree.
dad, the fern. they stand there & tell me
to get into bed. i take the top bunk.
the metal bones of the bed high-pitched laugh.
i dream what horrors might
lurk on the bottom bunk. a skeletal human.
a streak of blood. with the nightlight
on as bright as it can be i watch the far wall
knowing that if there were something
waiting down there that at least 
i would see it's profile shadow. i see
nothing just the bones of the bed &
then my own form, sitting up. lifting
a hand. i open my palm as if to catch something.
light is falling from the ceiling maybe.
i wanted more nightlight. i still want
more nightlight. i want to fill each corner.
it's funner how the memory becomes the present
& life becomes a future. my shadow now 
is crawling back to me-- bringing a tangle
of wires & chords. i am sleeping 
in the complete dark of my room. 
no window. a shoe box.
my old self is crouched
under the bed. she's terrified. i use 
my phone flashlight to show her the room
& i explain there's nothing hiding.
she doesn't believe me-- reaches her hand out
a memory of the touch nightlights. 
buttery light slips between her fingers.
she is safe there is the glow. 
i lay in the dark, lifting my one palm
as if to catch something.