Sanctuary [Poetry]

01-23-2021

i told you there ain't no monsters under the table, just some morning bugs fetching little flies.

but you shook your head, and you were scared, and the look in your eyes mirrored not of a kid so innocent but of an old person who have seen the most terrible thing ever existed.

you were horrified, mumbling incoherent words, even your hands shook in an unintelligent manner like you've been fighting, thinking your fingers were swords and you broke them all.

you said about the voices and they're sounded like you, and me, and everyone else, and they looked like us. oh, how frightening you were thinking we're our monsters ourselves.

how pitiful it was to realized the monsters were all in your head, a personification of your fear to me, to them, to your own self.