A Poem Called: Monsters


Do you remember being scared as a kid
Of the creepy crawlies laying in wait under your bed?
And now looking back, it’s hard to admit,
But the scarier things were up in your head.

See, the pulling, the screaming,
And the constant battle within,
Was a war far more grim
Than a shadowing demon.

But that’s what’s so frightening,
Not a monster but yourself.
When a look in the mirror
Revealed a struggle with worth.

Where an internal monologue,
Caused more pain than flesh and bone,
And the dream of being normal,
Meant more than others could’ve known.

An expert at hiding,
Just playing a role,
Making sure the world couldn’t see
The damaging toll.

But oh, wouldn’t be nice,
To breathe a sigh of relief?
And tell the child who still hides,
It’s more than safe to exist.

Then one day you wake,
You realise the truth,
The first person you matters,
Should always be you.

Over years and years,
Each day goes by,
You slowly see the light,
And know it’s okay cry but also fly.

Even though there’s no reasoning,
Even though there are no promises,
There are simple truths:

You are valid,
You are important,
And you can wear your scars with pride,
Like they are medals of honour,
For surviving the complexities of life.

By Naomi Eleanor @naomieir


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