Dear Monster Under My Bed,

You pretend to be like me because I fascinate you, adopting all my heroes and tracing every scar. You lost your head and left bruises on my skin so maybe it’s fair I didn’t know how to love in the end. I thought you were my rock, a solid refuge I could lean on when things got dark but all you ended up as was a soul more lost than I. Weep and wallow and complain about your loneliness but you’re only creating it for yourself. Family has never been guaranteed and the biggest gift you have is freedom, something most would kill for and yet you take it for granted, hung up on being picked last. You lost yourself a long time before the snow numbed your nose and I used to think it was my fault but I can’t take the blame for something running through your veins. You never knew how to take no for an answer and you never liked being out of control. You took my body like it was something you owned, something you could abuse and fuck with because you never got to have your own toys. We are all flawed but excuses can only get you so far when your anger got the best of you. I tried to fix you before I tried to escape you but it was impossible because you didn’t want to be fixed. At one time I never saw a future without you in it and now I see that you couldn’t cope when I wasn’t something you could possess. You have the nerve to yearn for what I had to lose and for that I will never forgive you. You can never atone for your sins but I only hope you will never have the joy of holding on to a newborn.

I’ll never forget the way your eyes turned dark and wild when you’d yell and that’s the way I’ll always remember you now. No longer a monster I fear but an abusive broken man who refuses to help himself and wonders why he’s alone.


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