Monsters aren't the things that roam under your bed,
they are the ones who linger in your head.
Monsters aren't the ones who hide in the dark corners,
they are the ones with the sorrowful mourners.
Hiding in the slyest of places,
causing fake smiles on beautiful faces.
The monsters have followed me,
now all I want to do is scream.
Scream for the help that somehow is never gotten,
leaving an innocent soul to be forgotten.
Monsters aren't the things that roam under your bed,
they are the ones who linger in your head.
Monsters aren't the ones who hide in the dark corners,
they are the ones with the sorrowful mourners.
They follow you to your death bed,
only then to leave your head.
I am now freed from their dark stare,
for I have nothing left to wear.
Nothing for them to feast off of,
no more hopeful love.
A empty shell that used to be a body of life,
now lays in a coffin because of the monsters in their head that took the last by of life.
