The Monster

You saw her in the hall one day,

You smile and wave, just because.

She rubs her eyes and looks away,

Unsteady: that’s what she was.

A voice tells her nothing matters.

No one hears it, but she does.

The ground beneath her feet shatters.

Unsteady: that’s what she was.

She’s not strong enough to carry the pain,

You won’t ever understand.

Because you have never driven a plane,

Without anywhere to land.

You’ve never been trapped in endless wars,

With the worst version of yourself.

And they have never locked all the doors,

To every word in your bookshelf.

You’ve never stayed up all night,

Held captive by your own mind.

And you've never had to fight,

Each voice making you rewind.

You’ve never started drowning,

In an ocean full of swimmers.

You’ve never seen him frowning,

The word “home” Doesn’t make you shiver.

You’ve never worked on a puzzle for years,

When the pieces just wouldn’t fit.

You’ve never cried countless tears,

Because your life is a crime you didn’t commit.

Your loved ones don’t use you,

Your heart doesn’t accuse you,

Your thoughts don’t abuse you,

Your conscious doesn’t lose you.

And the monster under your bed,

Hasn’t followed you out into your brain.

He hasn’t laughed at each tear you’ve shed,

Or replaced your best memories with pain.

And you haven’t ever made the mistake,

Of trusting your monster over yourself.

It's never ruined the friendships you make,

Compromising your happiness, and heath.

The monster doesn’t change your version of reality,

Into a war zone of thrills.

A stranger doesn’t try to change your personality,

With a handful of pills.

You’ll never understand what she can’t explain,

Your differences are becoming clearer and clearer.

Because you’ve never forgotten your own name,

By seeing the monster stare back at you from your mirror.