Monster Maker

Monsters: creatures below my bed,
Shadows, claws then horns on their head.
Thought of when they reached home,
Recalled nothing, but pain and a sad tone.

Whispers rang beside my ear.
Focused my eyes when darkness is here.
“Come with me. Play with me.”
I cried lightning and bent my knee.

Yesterday’s same as oblivion is deranged,
Today I’m lonely, tomorrow’s unchanged.
Sound waves were arctic, all of it twanged.
I tried my best, it can’t be arranged.

But I was startled with someone knocking.
For someone to come, I wasn’t expecting.

I was really startled when someone knocked on my wooden door. I had to finish a stanza on my typewriter before getting up from the side of my bed.

I flung to the door, hoping not to be numb.
Hoped for hope that it will come.

I hate this feeling of being disturbed when I’m focused. Then it came to me that I’ve been shut in my room for almost three weeks already. Good thing I have my own toilet and shower room. All they have to do is leave me some food in front of my door. Plenty of it was given and all I want to take is one plate a day.

“Darling, it’s me,” he said.

I tensed up upon hearing his voice.

“Please open the door.”

I suddenly realized who he was. I held onto the doorknob and hesitated to turn it. I let my right ear rest on the door.

I think I am becoming what my head’s creating, I thought.

Monsters are real, and so am I.

“Darling, it’s okay. I won’t hurt you.”


I went to my drawer and slid out my knife. That same knife I use to hurt myself so I can endure the pain. So I can let my blood slide from my flesh. For my floor to be stained with red and sins from my soul.

“Leave me alone,” was all I had managed to say.

“Okay. I’ll be back next weekend. Please take good care of yourself. Please come out already,” he pleaded. “Darling, I already miss-”

I played “You Only Live Once” before he could finish his sentence.

Some people think they’re always right.
Others are quiet and uptight.

Hearing this song helps me get through a day. Thank you The Strokes.

Others they seem so very nice, nice, nice, nice.
Inside they might feel sad and wrong.

I can say he already drove away from home, our house rather, because the woman’s deafening voice was fading. And all of a sudden, everything I can see is darkness.

I can hear the echo of her voice while remembering her words.

“Your father will remarry if I die,” she joked.

It was never funny. I didn’t know she was hurting. I didn’t know she’s not the only one. I wish I knew. I wish I took care of her before she faded away.

I gripped my typewriter and came back to my senses. I brushed the teardrop and continued the poem.

I was wrong, a monster came my way.
He’s one of them, that I can say.
Worse than my demons roaming around,
Worst of all, he let me drown.

He never knew he created one.
He never figured he created tons.
He’s a monster without the horns,
A monster makes monsters, he shot me with thorns.

In and out, lust’s better than love.
Suck his dick, he likes being above.
While his children wait for him,
When his wife waited for him.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *