Monsters Under the Bed

Monsters Under the Bed

They used to scratch beneath the floor,

Twitching claws, low growls, nothing more.

But silence taught them how to breed,

Now they’ve moved in, and now they feed.

Not under beds, no hidden place,

They curl behind my resting face.

They thump behind my quiet stare,

A circus riot, teeth laid bare.

They mimic doubt in every tone,

Disguised as truth when I’m alone.

A cackle dressed in reason’s suit,

A scream disguised as something cute.

They laugh in colours, bright and loud,

They jostle, mock me, draw a crowd.

They’ve got balloons and spiky tails,

They twist my thoughts like rusted nails.

I’ve named them, not to make them kind,

Just something fierce I can define.

There’s Should-Have, Did-You, Never-Good,

The ones that say you never could.

No lullaby can make them sleep,

They nest in wounds I couldn’t keep.

They press against my midnight sheets,

They echo through my skipped heartbeats.

Don’t talk of peace, don’t mention calm,

I rule them now with open palm.

They live here, yes, but I decide,

If monsters rise, or if they hide.