Do you ever just feel the need

To sit and read stories of

Fantastic things – like monsters

And creatures of the night,

Beyond what humans can see

Or most people actually believe in,

Because somehow you always seem to find

Little pieces of yourself within the pages

Of such an unrealistic,

Yet so perfectly relatable

Story book….

And somehow in a land with monsters and madness

You feel a little more understood…?

Because I do.

Do you ever feel like maybe

You relate more to a world

Just a little less human than ours?

And the monsters you’re familiar with

Are a little bit more accurately depicted

In the fairytales than in

Logical descriptions that our

Textbooks can come up with…

Maybe this is why I can run away

With a book in hand for days

And not miss the reality of the ordinary –

Yet somehow even more scary –

World, because at least

Behind the 12 point font, crammed in between

Two pieces of cardboard

I know that the person who

Brought this world into existence

Must have had a glimpse into something

That made them feel welcome, too.

But does the fact that I can feel at home

In these lands with these beasts

And these heros who inspire me

Make me someone or something

A little less than a fully normal human being…?

Or does having monsters chase after me,

Although not quite as literally,

Make me more of a human than everyone else seems-

Do my weaknesses and scary things

Make me more real, more alive, and less weak

Than the seemingly almost robotic

Human beings that surround me daily….

And maybe I love to run away to these

Alternate realities, because

In my reality, it’s improper to

Believe that we can talk about our monsters

And creepy crawly things

Like they are normal –

Because they can’t in fact be seen.

Because it’s not meant of us to be open

With each other about our monsters

Because we are taught from such a young age

That monsters aren’t real

But they are.

They aren’t green or big

They don’t have shadows or teeth

And they can’t breath fire from their lungs and burn me

But they are silent creatures that love to appear

At three A.M.

and haunt me in silence

and remind me of things that should have been forgotten.

But I am inspired

By the warriors that fight the monsters and beasts

In fairytales and story books

Because they give me the courage to fight my own.

Because even though the monsters I have

Come to know are invisible,

If I fight boldly and daringly

And relentlessly, with more of a determination to win

Than they have to make me lose

Then maybe I can fight my monsters,

And win, too.