My Monsters
Ten Poems of Mental Illnesses
One Poem: Where They Live
The monsters live beneath me,
Hanging onto the merry go around
So don’t tell me you love me
Watching butterflies become my
Bones, shattered glass lips
Because I can’t see my shadow
Or why you speak love to me
Yet, my heart is being teared
Into thousand different piano keys,
Returning myself to open stomach
With sickness I can’t let go
Can’t you feel the monsters
When you hold my heart?
As you hold my hand? My mama
Always told me there would
Be boys like you
Monsters no longer hide
Beneath my bed, not in my closet
Like the four year old, who
Couldn’t breathe her parent’s air.
Losing myself in smoke,
Drinking that endures the pain,
Like pastries filled with antidepressants
Like waterfalls rushed with marijuana
And condoms
Drinking to past the pain,
Like syrup in sippy cups
And cotton candy knifes
For rattles against cooked
Flesh
I’m hurting as the words I love
You sound from every lyric, as
My monsters become the lily
Pads and flowers I collect
Like sippy cups and wine covered
Knives
I have no hand to hold,
Wishing these monsters
In every beautiful pancake
Didn’t exist as though every
Fear is every poem in every
Word
Monsters are no longer
The scales, numbers, syringes
Of raspberry cocaine but
Rather the person staring
Back
So, hello my monsters
Two Poem: Inside out as Apple
They say love is the photographs,
Broken watches in the form of the sun,
As though Greek mythology is
The only love stories I know
As insanity is the numbers
Playing in my head, while
Obsession becomes the
Anxiety of thousand blurry
Faces in sea of blue
As words now become action
Because dancing with the devil
Is as beautiful as red dipped
Flowered apples
Kisses on lips that are starved,
Strained like fireworks are for lungs,
Anxiety is the flower pinned to
Her heart like a kite
Waving to seas of marshmallows
In green tea and coffee for addict
Whose head is seeing shadows
In streets as heavy traffic follows
Ahead.
The ceiling "friends" me as a puppy
Would a child, showing me happiness
in his eyes instead
Of breaking
The gravel grabs her by
The waist and one day
He’ll say your mine
Three Poem: Box of Candies
The bed becomes the field
Of strawberries, open-wounded
Heart shaped decks with chocolate
Tears soaking your mind
It's like laughing till you cry
Back to the lion’s cages
But where is my moon
In sea of vanilla stars and frescas
Con crema
As jokes become tears
Made of cotton candy
And green apple gum,
Tasting the bittersweet
Coffee of thousand macaroons
Here I am explaining
Food in beautifulness
Yet, depression is the empty
Icecream box of neoplition,
Mistakes of vodka on sofa
Beds, knowing nothing happened.
Lies in the form of rainbow
Waterfalls leading to dirty
Filled passive aggressive
Poems
Monster in my mirror
Becoming the depression
Of the rocking chair, the food
That can’t be swallowed
And the shirts wallowed
In blood.
Holding depression
In the form of the small
Child next me with frown
Formed in black buttons.
Four Poem: Drinking Bathwater
Flashbacks are like gospel
Songs they never leave
As though the grinch movie
Never existed
I’ve never been able to run
From chocolate roads,
Vanilla rivers and opened
Wounds of jelly beans
Like post-traumatic stress
Does Not exist in your children
As though my monsters
Are the fruit salads, diet pills,
Presents under christmas
Trees and innocence
In lotion bottle
With nail clippers in
The form of beer bottle
As beer hits your body
Like chlorine, blunts
And hallucinations
In brownies
Wishing the birds rested
In my waist would disappear
As they untie the corset
Being told go put on some
Makeup
As though wooden stairs,
Bathrooms, wooden cabinets
And chairs aren’t the novacaine
Of my flashbacks in the forms
Of infant’s sweet hiccups
Bathing in bathwater to be free
Five Poem: Meat and Vegan
Maybe there's two in this
Head of cookies and milk
Wrapped in vegan trays
Of human meat
Breaking hearts in softness
And than hardness were easily
Scarring better than mending
Two mended frankenstein hearts.
A personality of roughness
Stealing my sanity and opening
My legs for someone else,
Yet like strawberries are the monsters
That are mended into one
Diagnosed too many personalities
That became soured water in cup,
of pills and broken, porcelain, white
Dove like plates
Tasting bio-polar cake
On mended depressed lips,
Looking at perfection that doesn’t
Exist because one of me has
Died in Mozart's last symphony
Six Poem: Inability to Talk
His hands don’t calculate
Like the others, whereas
Pain in the ink in dove feathers
Hating numbers, counting
Street lights and loud noises
That become to much to touch
Clouds that no longer exist
I watch from backless dresses,
Audio’s of deathless cigarettes
Because mouth shoots sounds
Of birds he mimics.
Looking for the sun that became
Depression in a sunflower
Of sunflower seeds and yellow
Fingertips of blueberry blood.
Tasteless, bitter and misunderstanding
Because he can’t understand love,
While at the end of the day playing with baby
Blocks at the age eighteen results in
Vanilla retirement places of sweet peppermint
Tea
My hands can no longer hold like
This monster that consumes the heaven
In his head
Seven Poem: Baby Rattles
I sit in high-chairs
Of imagination,
Hands shaking
Like baby rattles
Sucking on forbidden
Bottles, mother’s nipples
That no longer exist,
Wasting love on extreme
ADHD
Hands rearranging
Books, food, papers
And broken hearts
In glass jars
Pointing and laughing
In bathroom mirrors,
Clutching stomachs
Offcuts rushing pillows
Of strawberry blood
Cleaning every piece
Of dirt from her ripped
Skin, her eyeballs turning
Over like turnover apple
Pie
Collapsing in papers
Looking like murder scene
Of hurting heart at the edge
Of blade made of milk
And dark chocolate
For the tasting
I arrange everything I see
Like broken piano keys,
Cleaning each red soaked
Tile that replaces the wooden
Floorboards of my father’s
Bathroom floor
Eight Poem: Ice Cream Scoops
Memories do not reach her stars,
Trees become memories in forgotten
Tastes of food like the monsters
Are eating the icecream of brain cells
Scooping each memory onto cones,
Ripping each cotton ball for every unremembered
Scar, while tasting blood in pizza
Dementia a monster as cruel
As her fingertips no longer feel
The typewriter in home of broken
Riches
Unstable mind, not able to be saved,
Turned into a child’s building blocks
That are her new favorite tool better
Than the unused condoms
Nine Poem: Paper Skin
The chemicals become
The imagined boat,
Cotton candy pills,
But no-cure for
The crazies
They are called.
Glazed over eyes
With galaxy skin
She can only see
As though every
Shadow is her own
Drawing her skin
With baby rattles
Dragging her skin
Like paper
Entering her mind
Of rainbows, with burns
And bruises of hidden
Toothbrushes
Because her mind is
Imperfection
Beauty hidden
In candies, paintings
Of demons
To the girl that sits
In the back of class
Feeling schizophrenia
In her veins like espresso
Shot of sad music
For the living
Ten Poem: Closing the Chapter
They repeat each stroke
Of the painting like losing
Sanity is the spice on donuts
And sugar on butter cookies
Shaking cheese on pizza
Multiple times because it never
Looks right as couples confuse
The mind like monsters
We can see
Standing lighthouses,
In darkness never seeing
They stare back as
Smiling becomes the OCD
In her coffee
Wiping and pinning each
Bloody rose-gold pin
As her pain becomes the problems
On the white board of ugliness
She can’t wipe away
Stacking each knife
In her throat like balloon
Made of throw up
And unicorn cupcakes
She cleans each red spot
From her wrists as the monsters
Caress her wrists in distress
Closing the last chapter of her monsters
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