I wrote this poem when I was younger and dealing with some major problems in my life. Growing up in a broken home and navigating the treacherous waters of high school is hard enough on a kid. Throw in a dash of major depressive disorder, a pinch of self-harm, and an eating disorder and it gets really interesting. Those were some of the hardest times of my life, and I used writing as a coping mechanism. Scrawling out all the anger and frustration onto pages calmed me enough to get to sleep on a lot of restless and tearful nights. Most of the poems and short stories I've written are angsty and cringe-inducing as hell, but I actually liked this one and decided to share.
My monsters came to me in the dark of the night
One on my left, and one on my right
One at my feet, and one at my head
Four little monsters around my bed
The one with sharp teeth introduced himself first
He bared his fangs and announced his thirst
“I’m Jealousy, girl,” the green thing said
I crawl in your ears and live in your head.“
The second one snarled in an angry state
As he stepped forward and called himself Hate
"My mean sharp claws set me apart
I crawl down your throat and live in your heart.”
The third one’s words sent chills down my spine
“My name is Fear, and your soul is mine.
My breakfast is a bowl full of lies
And people see me looking out through your eyes.”
With a growl, the fourth chased the others away
I listened closely, and I heard him say,
“I’m Loneliness, girl, and I am the worst
I’ll hurt you more than the third, second, or first.”
Then the rest came back and bared their teeth
As I covered my eyes with my ice cold sheets
I peeked out to see if they were still there
But found they’d disappeared into thin air
But then through the darkness came a soft little tune
As my monsters sang, “We live in you.”
OMG, Cera this was so beautiful (sad, but beautiful) I had to make an account to comment on it!
Oh thanks, Rose! Yaaaaay you made an account!
This poem is real. It punches in the gut. x
Thanks, cathi! :)
You're welcome. I find much of the poetry on here to be devoid of emotion. Read mine, if you have a minute.