Monsters

Have you seen them, child, have you?

The creatures of the night?

They stalk around the house,

And fill your whole with fright.

There's one that lives inside your closet,

Another one, right under your bed.

Quick, don't let your feet hang off!

You know it wants you dead.

And look, there's another!

Perching on the windowsill...

What?

You can't see it?

Be patient, and maybe you will.

And look, another, and another one too!

One hiding in the mirror,

The other in bed with you.

Do you really not see them,

Am I really that crazy?

There's one sitting on my dresser,

And her name is Daisy.

She's a weird monster made of wilted flowers,

Broken promises and shattered dreams.

Another, a little doll with stitches,

Ripping apart at the seams.

And then there's the monster,

Sitting on my floor.

Her name is Silver,

She holds a blade in her hand,

Moonlight's gleam making it stand out.

Thin red ribbons wrapped around her wrists,

Blood dripping onto the floor without a sound.

And then there's that other creature,

The one who's standing,

Standing in front of the open refrigerator door,

Eating whatever she can get her hands on,

Wanting to be full,

But it's her heart that's empty,

Not her stomach, not at all.

And the one on the windowsill,

It's sort of like hope.

Fantasy, imagination.

Though sometimes more like longing, desperation.

The monster in the closet,

Is a frail, underfed thing.

She chooses to not eat.

Now, she's only bones and skin,

No meat.

And the monster under my bed...

He's the one that talks to me,

Makes me think I'm hearing things.

He makes me jumpy, paranoid.

But only sometimes, in episodes.

Then there's the monster,

Sitting on my bed,

Loaded gun in hand,

Considering it, contemplating.

That monster never leaves me,

But it is always hesitating.

And the creature in the mirror?

She's a girl struggling to break free,

Break free of her diseases.

She's a girl struggling to be herself.

She's a girl that just wants to be free.

She doesn't hide the scars she has,

She doesn't hide her illnesses,

She knows what the people say and think,

She doesn't let the cruel laughter,

The teasing, the names,

Make her heart sink.

She's a human being, not a monster.

She loves and cares and creates wonderful things,

She plays piano, writes poetry,

Plays video games, watches TV,

Dances when she's alone, and sings.

The 'monster' in the mirror?

She's just normal human being.

Just a girl struggling with the monsters that are mental illness.

She's... me.