I don't feel horror

Somebody is always in my room.

Other than me,

Nobody felt the presence of that one.

That one is always behind me

After the door had been closed.

For the first few weeks

The feeling of someone's presence 

lay eggs of horror in me.

But now

Even the ruptured egg

Even the dead bat 

didn't make horror about my life inside the room.

I might know that someone before

That someone might be one of the close ones who lost in war

That someone might be one of the hated ones who I loved before.

Whoever that someone

I always allow them to stay

Whenever they want.

Because I don't feel the horror.