there are no longer
monsters under my bed.

the last time I saw it,
was the last time
I held my milk bottle tightly
in my grips;
but it still left me.

the monsters under my bed
packed and went away,
when I turned twelve
and turned off my nightlight.

the monsters,
       said goodbye to me,
as I stared at the ceiling
the night after my
first heartbreak

I miss the monsters
the ones hiding under my bed;
every night,
as I turned off my lights,
I almost forgot about them

the part of my innocence.
the purity that went away.