I used to be scared of the monsters under my bed,

Like all other kids, I was utterly petrified.

Over time, I thought the monsters

found other beds to live under.

My fears assuaged and my confidence bolstered.

Naive, foolish, infantile hopes of a young heart;

The monsters found not a bed but lodged in my head;

Proliferating perennially, these prolific creatures,

Found a home in the warmth of my heart;

Under the blazing heat of my love and passion,

And the refreshing flutters of joy that would

Lift me up every once a while.

They ate it all up. They stole from me everything

I thought I owned and made it their own.

I hold multiple fiends within me;

A whole platoon of them

Encumber me with the honor of carrying them around.

They won’t let me tell a soul and in this clandestine affair,

I hold myself in the highest esteem;

Not a soul knows of the war that wages in me;

Every day, casualties go up, as the monsters attempt

To penetrate the bastion of hope that once stood strong

And now there are cracks on what used to be smooth walls.



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