Yes, There are Monsters

Yes, there are monsters inside,
fearful things,
black with tarnished truth
and blacker still with lies
you have allowed to flourish in the dark,
taking on a life larger than your own,
swallowing zest and joy
from behind the closed door
where you keep them.

Trust me.
They grow
in the night.

Open the door,
and they swoop on you like vultures,
a horrifying rapture of the worst
you could have been,
frightening,
drooling in anticipation,
teeth bared,
seeking your blood, your life, your joy.

But should you have the courage to lift the latch
and release them,
the courage to stand, simply stand
against their onslaught,
you will find the joke is on them
as they die in the light,
wispy things with no strength at all
except what you gave them.

You will dance to the smoke
of their flickering, fading truth,
that they were not Gods at all,
except in your oh so powerful

imagination.

About this poem

Many years ago I was ambivalent about therapy. Today, having spent years there opening the dungeon doors, I am an evangelist. It moved me from survival, to life and was worth every tear and shred of anger and hard work I went through.

Tom