They aren't real.
They never were...right?
No longer having monsters at the end of the bed,
nothing in the closet, and nothing in the darkness of a doorway.
Yet as adults we rock back and forth with hands clapsed over our face.
The monsters still fester inside our head.
We still lay paralyzed in our bed, afraid of the dark.
It's not the boogie man,
nor the locknest monster.
This one has a new name and an even stronger power.
Come out, come out, wherever you are...
The three-headed beast, that left us with many scars.
Depression, Anxiety and Addiction.
We used to shiver under a blanket with a night-light on, but we had safety as mother was never far from the door.
Now the brighest of lights are off.
We are on our own.
Rocking back and forth in a darkened room.
The three-headed beast chuckles, 'We are very real.'