he tells me to **** my fears
i try, i try my best to **** them
i lean over them in the darkness of the night
thinking to stab them
with the sharpest of the knives
i hold it tightly in my hand
i expect them to put up a fight
but they don't, they do nothing at all
and i realize that i cannot **** them
i cannot **** something that has been
a part of me since the beginning
so i pull up the trunk from under the bed
and lock them away and tell them to be quite.

he tells me again to **** all my fears
i tell him they are dead, yes i lie
he buys it easily and i secretly smile

i hate my fears yet they feel like the only thing
that is truly mine.

I wish I could tear my skin away to show you the scars unseen.
So you could see how my hearts been beaten and battered,
Stomped, forgotten,
And worst of all,
ripped apart.
If you could see the story of my heart,
Yours would cry for mine.
But this thick skin doesn't open up easily,
Or for just anyone.
It protects so that my heart sustains no more injuries or pain.

There's a thin line keeping my sanity together.
Over the years, it didn't break;
It didn't rust.
It remained intact for my own purposes.

And then all of a sudden, a piece of metal broke through it.
Its cold surface mocked me;
belittled me.

A reminder that even a thin piece of thread,
bound to surpass ages,
had a weakness.

A blade can cut through everything when it pleases.
And it cut through me,
slicing my personality in two,
dividing my soul in half.
The good and the bad,
separating itself from my body,
unable to be whole,

ever again.

When I was little, like all kids
I was afraid of the monster that
Lived under the bed.

Now that I am older
I am still afraid of monsters,
But now they don’t live under the bed.

My monster live in me.
Me who feeds the beast
Who screams at two in the morning.

Humans don’t make good cages,
Our bones are just too weak
To hold up against this burden.

I know because most days, when dawn
Awakes to kiss the horizon,
I am still at war to keep the beast within.

So when people ask me about the scars,
The ones that litter my wrist, my thighs, my back,
What am I suppose to say, but casualties of war.

Because this is the greatest battle
I have ever known:
The Battle of Monster in my Head.