Uncanny Valley

The worst kinds of monsters

are the ones with human faces.

You reach out to shake their hand

and your body hesitates.

Something in the pit of your stomach,

in the hairs on your neck,

tells you that something is wrong.

but you can’t place what is is.

So you shake off the feeling,

Write it off as a draft or some bad tuna,

And take their hand.

But then you see their eyes.

You see their empty, emotionless eyes

That their smile doesn’t quite reach,

And the feeling gets more intense

Like a palpable aura clinging to them.

That feeling stays with you

Even as they walk away

And days, weeks, maybe years later

You find out why.

The worst kinds of monsters

are the ones with human faces,

Because you don’t know they’re monsters

Until it’s too late.