They say that we stopped checking for monsters beneath our beds
When we realized the monsters were within us.
And so they are.
We have grown to laugh at our younger selves,
At our innocence and foolishness,
While behind our smiling eyes,
Tears well up at the thought of better, simpler times.
Outright, I admit I have laughed,
I have despaired,
I have cried to myself,
Asking if there were any worse feeling than this;
This lie,
This act that we put on every day of our lives,
Pretending everything is fine,
When all we really want is to drop to the floor and sob.
Sob for the loneliness that rages within us.
Sob and hope that someone else does the same,
So we can see that we are not the only broken ones,
That we may share our sorrow with others not so different from ourselves.
One day I hope to rid the world of the pain,
The pain that fills the hearts of so many.
This hollowing feeling of hunger,
Of lust for acceptance and reassurance
That what we feel is normal,
That this feeling is mutual,
And that we are not some rare species,
Deserving of isolation or extinction.
We are all people and we all yearn to be accepted,
To be celebrated.
We scrounge for scraps of hope to encourage us to move forward,
To keep pressing through the matted vines
Until we can relieve our aching backs
Of the pain we have carried our entire lives.
So tonight when I lay myself to rest
I resolve to check
Beneath
The
Bed.