I told my mother,
when I was younger,
that I'm scared of the monster
that might be lying under.
She sat with me,
and explained so patiently
that there is nothing to fear.
Since then, I slept so soundly.
Only years later, I realized
we fear the monster under the bed,
but the worst one of all
lives closer, just inside our head,
In the gut-wrenching thought of
That lover with a forceful hand,
That locked door, that stained shirt,
That friend as she shrugged offhand.
Mother was right.
Monsters lie not in the dark at night.