The monster is not inside the closet,
it’s not under the bed,
the monster lives inside of me,
whispering fears into my head.
It makes sure I will understand
the hidden meaning of the word,
so even the kindest niceties,
cut me deeper than a sword.
all sound is filtered, colors cut,
all is rude, sharp and grey.
The beauty in the world is not for me,
I won’t die just slowly wither and decay.