Dear Monster Under the Bed
- Jun 17, 2024
- 2 min read
Updated: Apr 1
For you there is no gravestone, you were the essence of hate disguised as love and you stole my youth. I heard you burned in that fire, and I am sorry, but I can’t even begin to forgive you. However, I understand that for me to enjoy the duration of this gift called life, you must be included in my healing process. You held that shotgun to my head and gave instructions no girl should have to follow. You stole my youth, my confidence, and my self-esteem. But I never expected to hear I’m sorry from you because you have more demons in you than hell itself. I don’t forgive you, for what you did, I do forgive myself for allowing it to take away my identity. For allowing it to stop my sleep over you. While no one will ever understand how I am always paying for a debt I never owned when you crossed my path, I permit myself to cry, scream and be angry. And now that those five minutes are over ( for the memory of you is not worth even that much of my time)
I release you back to your unrest. I
apologize to me for thinking about what you did to me although a long time ago, I kept it in my backpack as if it happened to me yesterday. I am sorry I let it define me, believing I was worthless. Oh, to hell with you. I am a free gentle flower growing wild in a way that gave me thorns, where sleep was the only freedom, I knew. When looking into my eyes, no one sees how I am still paying for a debt I never owed. So now, you monster under my bed, pain bearer, the evil one who crept into my dreams night after night taking with you my ability to have a decent night’s sleep, I bid you farewell. Taking the better side of me with me, leaving this weight from my shoulders and placing it on your name and shutting the doors to you. You no longer have power over my ability to feel worthy of love, I take back my power by telling love I am ready to receive you and I welcome you fully. No longer bringing in the luggage of insecurity, to love I give you my heart my mind and my
soul.
Dear wildflowers, my sisters and my brothers who have had to endure the remnants of pain and insecurity and low self-esteem and self-validation, I implore you now to permit yourself to move forward, for you no longer have to sleep with the lights on, you no longer have to sabotage real love out of fear of not being worthy. The monster under your bed is now dead.
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