- Sophia L
the monster under my chair

I couldn't write
because I knew
I couldn't hide
my weakness and my fear
of what?
I asked myself
until
the weight went of my chest
in order to
forget
hide
rest
I hid my pain
under my chair
and if I'm honest:
I think it's still there
but I don't really dare to look
sometimes it's easier to be blind
to act as if one doesn't mind
the part of light the fear must've took
the aspect of my soul it shook
I stand here with a hole in my back
a hole big enough to
crack
sanity down into a joke
crack
my existence
like a line of coke
into abusive states of desire
to always
always
look for ways to rise
higher,
forgetting that I don't believe in height
in better or in worse-
I might
become a hopeless nihilist
(with a slight spiritual twist.) I thought if I don't speak the word
it also doesn't hurt,
but now the monster sits under the seat
and I can't find it with my feet,
so if I bend down to look at it,
I might collect another hit.