A monster standing

When I go into the bathroom
I expect to see something giant sitting in there
And sometimes I do, for a second,
You see, in the middle of the night,
I feel like there is a monster standing
With a catchlight on his back from the moon
And he is with me in bed
But when I reach to wave him away
Like you would a bad feeling
It's not moving
Yet hard and warm, like a body
But it's just the fur
Of my plush bear
I like to hold onto something each time
that I go to sleep with my right arm
Always clinging onto something
This time it was my teddy
Other time it is a pillow
Other times it was your hand.
It feels hard to wake up with a missing limb
From your own
Now I have to replace it with things that immitate
The third arm I used to have.

I have a hard time not imagining creatures in my bed at night
Or in the bathroom when I wake up half dizzy in the afternoon
And forget the time of day
The hours pass by, connected
Like in a chain of prison
Sleep works like a tranquilizer
For my seizures
While in the daytime
I'm living a nightmare.