No one knows more. Than the monster under the bed.
He's seen me at my lowest
And my most content.
The tears that leak into the floor
The warmth that radiates to the beats of music
The pain that dissipates as I sink
No one knows more, except the monster in the closet
He keeps my outward soul
And knows my face when I sleep
The comforting dark when it's all too much
The insects with whom I share my life
The decades of memories stored away
Sometimes I stare. Under the bed and into the closet.
Trying to get a glimpse of their faces, staring back alone.
I wonder if they ever feel lonely or if they too—
Know that the monster on top of the bed and the monster outside the closet
Will always be there when the darkness is too much
Or when they need to feel at home