It Crawls in the Walls

It crawls in the walls.
I don't know what it is.
But it isn't a rat,
It isn't a cat,
And it isn't a bat.
I will hear it start to move and shift between my floors.
When it knows I'm listening, it comes to a halt.

I put my ear to the wall and hear the drowning noises of crying,
It reverberates through the attic, and it shakes the electrical wires.
An electrical buzz comes out of its mouth,
Its awful pain penetrates deep inside my head. I sense that it’s dying.
I swear whatever this thing is, it isn’t my fault.

I've only owned my house for a year,
The past life it must have endured, brings me to a tear.
It whispers throughout the house telling me it is a friend.
I don't believe it one bit, which is why I have my bed circled in salt.

I'm currently lying in my bed tonight,
Because I know once I put my computer away this thing will bite,
I hope you forgive me if this is a ramble,
I'm sure you would keep writing as long as possible as I do,
When I turn off the lights, I know it’s thinking of only one thing. Assault.

I now must build courage, and put away my device,
It's time for sleeping now, even though it will entice.
I lay my head down and close my eyes,
It is slowly walking toward my bed now; I hear its steps. Thrice.