Hiding

there lives deep inside
a secret hiding place
to stash ugly, unacceptable
no one warned us
monsters under the bed become
the ones inside our heads and
we shove them
down
    down
         d
            o
               w
                   n
drown them out
immobilized by generations of
endless hide-and-hide
this is the real neverending story
we are digging in the mudshitdebris
why am I so angry?
why am I so sad?
why can't I connect?
why do I keep running?
what was I looking for again?
I DON'T FUCKING KNOW
stop asking questions
i am so. tired.
why am I so tired?
questions never stop
and answers we already know
but cannot abide we've
been carrying this too long
hiding sweeping tucking
holding turning running a-
way
this hiding place is full to bursting
we're all pregnant with pain
bearing our helpless monsters
believing no one else sees
perhaps it's time to birth our
twisted horrors and discover
the exhausted joy of holding
our newest born in loving daylight

~ Amber Keating // 03.11.18