Home Sweet Home
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Monsters don't hide under your bed or in your closet.
They don't jump out of the darkness and scare you.
They don't wear masks and tattered clothing.
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They don't wait for you to fall asleep to give you nightmares.
They stand in front of you. Smiling. Holding your hand.
My monster has dictated my entire life. He lurks in the scarier parts of my mind because I refuse to acknowledge who he is. I haven't seen him in seven years, but just the mere thought of him brings me to my knees in fear. I used to think he loved me at one point, but that thought is never enough to salvage what he has left of me. An ounce of love from him is worth a pound of hate from the Devil himself. Wanna know what I used to call this monster?
Dad.
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