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Monsters
By Ivy
Monsters are real. But not under your bed. They haunt you constantly, Inside your head.
Every step you take, Every breath you waste, They judge you incessantly, Commenting without haste.
They question every word, Replay each little mistake, Turning moments into burdens, And every choice you make
They whisper, “What if they hate you?” “What if you’re not enough?” They magnify your smallest flaws, And make the simple tough.
They live in silence, Where every thought grows loud, Turning doubt into a shadow That follows like a cloud.
It can make you wither, Or bury you in doubt, Until you can't remember What your own voice sounds like.
But these monsters are known With a completely different name. A much simpler term. Inadequacy.
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