Monster Grown
When I was little,
I checked the dark,
Pulled the covers to my chin.
Certain there was something waiting With claws and teeth beneath my bed.
I'd leave the hallway light on,
Keep one eye open through the night.
Mama said, "There's nothing there," But fear don't care who's right.
And I thought I'd outgrow monsters,
Like old toys and childhood dreams.
Funny how some things get bigger,
Even when they're never seen.
The monster under my bed grew up with me,
Got taller with the years.
It learned my name,
learned all my fears,
Learned how to whisper in my ears.
Now it doesn't hide in shadows,
Doesn't wait beneath the springs.
It's in every doubt,
every sleepless night, Every cruel thought that it brings.
The monster under my bed grew up with me,
And some days it still won't leave.
It traded claws for memories,
Traded growls for anxious thoughts.
It learned how to wear familiar faces,
Learned exactly where it hurts.
Now it lives inside the silence,
In every room I walk into.
Makes me question every kindness,
Every good thing that is true.
I keep waiting for the moment
That it finally disappears.
But healing isn't slaying dragons,
It's surviving through the years.
Because I grew up too.
I learned the names of what I carry.
I learned that fear can lie.
I learned that broken doesn't mean ruined,
And hurting doesn't mean I'll die.
Some nights it's still there waiting,
Still scratching at the door.
But I'm not the frightened child I was,
And it doesn't own me
anymore.
Maybe it never leaves completely.
Maybe some scars stay behind.
Maybe courage isn't killing monsters— Maybe it's refusing to let them decide.
Who I am.
Who I love.
How I live.
Who I become. The monster under my bed grew up with me,
But so did my heart.
So did my hope.
So did every shattered part.
And though it still gets loud sometimes,
Though some nights are hard to survive,
I'm standing here, breathing still,
Proof I made it out alive.
The monster under my bed grew up with me,
But it never became me.
The dark is still the dark.
The shadows still remain.
But I don't check beneath the bed anymore.
I know where the monster lives.
And I know I'm stronger than it thinks.