Monsters And Meds

I forgot my meds last night. I fell asleep without turning off the light. Meds sitting on the counter. As I lie in bed, I flounder. My brain knows what it's missing. I start to hear hissing. A little growl too. A monster that is blue. I forgot my meds for three nights now… I don’t even flinch at a growl. The scarecrow sitting in the corner? I simply turn away from her. I’m in my bed, a place for sleeping. And I do so with bugs teeming. I forgot again. I forgot within. I could simply walk downstairs for meds and water. But that would mean turning toward the monster. It’s easier this way. I lie still, with monsters that prey. It’s easier than going to the kitchen. Where I’d feel as vulnerable as a kitten. It’s easier to lie still. Letting them watch me, waiting to kill. Laughing nervously in bottles. My meds are starting to throttle. They call for me, from orange containers. But all I hear are the monsters. I forgot my meds, some nights ago. The monsters appeared fast and slow. I could go downstairs whenever I want. My bedroom is a bit overwhelmed with haunt. I forgot! I forgot… My hands start to rot. My toes are frostbitten. I could use some mittens. But monsters don’t care about the condition of meat. All they want is someone quick to eat. I’ve been lying here for days. In a daze. So the monsters said, “hey!” “Looks like our lunch is here to stay.”