When I was 5, I feared the monsters under my bed.
I always made sure my toes never peeked from under the soft cotton blanket.
When I was 8, boys became more fascinating. But I remained unseen.
I planned the future in my mind with a wedding, farmhouse, and babies.
When I was 16, I turned to the bottle for comfort. Spent time with older men who showed me the slightest attention because men saw I wasn't a little girl anymore. But those boys at school never noticed.
I miss thinking the monsters lived under the bed. At 16, I realized they were in my head. The drinking silenced the voices. And the high brought me peace.
At 16, I just wanted to be loved the way I love. But jealousy broke the thread of our relationship. And at 16, I drank the pain away. The vodka was the only thing holding my shattered pieces together.
The more I drank, the less I felt.
My first blackout was at 16, and my last. But the monster wasn't only in my head. At 16, my body was seen as something more, and the monster turned out to be real after all.
I miss when I was 5 and the monsters were only under my bed. I miss when I was 8, planning for the future. But at 16, the monster got what it wanted. I couldn't forget what happened, no matter how much I drank.
I woke with every memory.
I was too numb to fight, too numb to run.
I miss when the monster was under my bed
YOU ARE READING
Reflections of a Struggling Soul
PoetryThis powerful collection of poems takes readers on an intimate journey through the depths of a woman's struggle with mental health challenges. Written with raw honesty and vulnerability, these verses give voice to her inner turmoil, aching lonelines...
