The black vinyl of the couch stuck
To my skin in the sweltering
Heat. I lie here in the trailer,
Knowing it is poor sheltering.

But it was not from tornadoes
That the tin could not protect me,
But from the pervasive fear that
Something was going to get me.

I could feel it in my stomach;
It was as certain as my nose.
Despite my ploys to distract my
Mind, the ominous dread but grows.

I couldn’t sleep in my bedroom,
Since they already knew that room.
The mosquito empathizes;
Why’d we have to look at the moon

And stars while sitting on the hood
Of the Celica some nights back?
While looking for the satellites
As gnats and mosquitoes attack,

We thought that we’d bond together,
As we did watching Flash Gordon
In the wee hours of Thursdays.
Where constellations did cordon

Off their areas, twinkling lights
Of commercial airlines appeared.
Another light sped cross the sky,
Then, it unnaturally veered.

It started heading straight for us.
At the time, I thought it was cool.
Then, it started hovering close,
But still I was a childish fool.

My step-father and I looked up
To see its lights dead over us.
Then, suddenly it darkened, and
My blood seemed to turn into pus,

It had become so hard to breathe,
And I knew my heart would soon burst.
With a glance, I could tell that he
Was also fearing for the worst.

A bright light shone above us,
And I knew that we had been caught.
Had the light made me motionless,
Or was it because I was fraught?

As suddenly as it had shone,
The light vanished and sped away.
But just thinking of the moment
Makes me nauseous with fear today.

My back is pressed into the couch
As I lie on my thin right side,
Buried deep into the cushions,
Wishing that my blanket could hide

Me from these night visitors like
It does from monsters under beds.
The problem is that they are real,
Despite their surreal, long, gray heads.

I didn’t want to give credence
To them by believing, but fact
Continues being true despite
How hopes, dreams, and wishes react.

I knew I’d see their oblong eyes
When harsh light flared through the window
Beneath which I kept vigil with
The impotency of shadow.

I could do nothing but hide;
My terror grew as the light did.
The lights dimmed as the car passed by.
I sighed; so did a katydid.

I should have listened for the noise,
But PTSD lacks reason.
We were coming home from a friends’,
And soon we’d see Jacky Gleason

Reruns on the television
In the house where we used to live.
We had been happy there until
We had both been taken captive.

That night, though dark, we neither thought
Nor worried about the strange lights.
The wilderness of south Georgia
Swallowed us, though we had on brights.

With not a car upon the road
And oldies on the radio,
We passed through loblollies and oaks
That far surpassed Palladio.

Then, our car died. Familiar lights
Hovered above us. We were trapped.
We were motionless in the car.
We were presents to be unwrapped.

‘Stop thinking of that! They’ll hear you!’
I scolded myself for the fear.
We’d moved since, though it mattered not.
Night was my captor; dawn was dear.

I lie here for several moments,
Unwilling to call for my mom.
I’m no baby. Gilead had
No balm, though I’d fake my aplomb.

The symphony of bugs without
Died out, and there was pure silence.
Mother nature was trying to
Warn me that there’d soon be violence.

I knew what thing this foreboded,
I knew that hiding couldn’t save.
Why would I hide ‘neath the window?
‘Tis a foolish way to behave.

The sweat was pouring from my scalp;
My pores were busy excreting.
Was it Georgia’s heat or my fears
That caused such great overheating?

My legs cried to my mind to run.
But to where? The dark woods outside?
They must have had an implant, for
They found me anywhere I’d hide.

Spending the night at a friend’s house
Had rarely granted me reprieve.
I couldn’t tell anyone now;
With him dead, why would they believe?

My ears could hear the dull thudding
Of my heart beating in my breast.
Couldn’t the insects sing once more
And put my weary mind at rest?

Then, lightning flashed but never dimmed,
And I was unable to move.
My eyes from the growing shadows
On the wall I could not remove.

Why couldn’t they go to my room
And be content I’m not in bed?
They know precisely where to find
Me. Do they see in infrared?

I feel like I’m choking; I’m scared.
Oblong shadows on the wall leer,
Obscuring family portraits as
Through the window I’m sure they peer.