... because of the monsters under my bed .

eyes swollen from

carrying the weight of

heavy tears.

nights swallowed by

the hauntings of ghosts

that aren't too friendly

misery likes to host

parties in my closet

and dance till the day is done

with my skeletons .

i've had monsters 

living underneath by bed

since i can remember

but those childhood scares

could never compare

to the deafening blares

of my dark nightmares

you could never survive them

you would drown in the 

melancholy records that spin

on the tongues of

hopeless romantics.

my last love was a savage.

i guess you can say

i've always been attracted

to danger.

infatuated by the thrill.

the villains always seem

to want to love me.

its true 

they see an innocence in me

that they lack

and wish they could get back 

so they try to destroy it

before it destroys them

because memories kill

and reminiscing is suicide

so i find myself in these

tangled webs of wanting to love

and wanting to run.

serial killers like to watch

their victims suffer

and if pain is love

than i've been smothered

but these days

my skin is a little rougher

my heart is a little tougher

and all the demons

that have always haunted my dreams

are slowly beginning to look like

beautiful angels.

you would think i'd be afraid

but i've been conquering monsters

since i was little and they were

hiding underneath my bed . 

your fangs do not scare me.

love - tianamonique