Statue of Sadness On A Foundation of Shame
The worst monsters,
Overwhelm us and fill us with dread.
How can we even fight THIS?!
No wonder we fled…
There are times,
We can’t escape.
The monster is inside us,
Hidden under our cape.
We wear a mask,
To make it through the day.
When I tell people about it,
They throw me away.
Nobody understands this,
Unless they have it, too.
This is the problem of warriors,
Heroes, and the stigma is undue.
This monster has been with me,
For decades of time.
It was born out of necessity,
Due to lost faith in fairy tales and nursery rhymes.
This monster sought wisdom,
And helped me succeed,
But a change in scenery,
Caused me to bleed.
Perfectionism is tricky.
There are good things and bad.
When your Inner Critic takes steroids,
Feedback can make you overly sad.
This sadness is made,
On a foundation of shame.
Shame I never deserved,
But it’s here all the same.
My monster is heavy,
I have tried to help it lose weight,
Hard to hire a trainer,
When unhired as of late.
Sometimes afflicted ones,
Have trouble finding a new party,
Because there’s something about them,
That obscures the smarty.
There might be a flag,
On their armor that is red.
They are fully able,
But the look puts them in bad stead.
No missions work out,
I end up on the ground,
Why did I have to be like this?!
To this monster, I’m always bound.
I’m overwhelmed by the situation,
Sometimes panic makes it hard to breathe,
My perfectionism is a poison,
Where’s that rock to hide beneath?!
When one is truly terrified,
They freeze in utter fear.
That is where I am.
I want to disappear.
If nobody can see me,
Nobody can hurt me either.
Ha! That’s a lie!
As if my monster would give me a breather…
When my mind is quiet,
The monster descends,
Like a spider finding dinner,
Persistent consumption it intends.
My monster wants to protect me,
Keep me from feeling more harm,
Reminding me of self-hatred,
To keep me ready and on alarm.
I have known it for decades.
I still know it now.
My constant companion,
Spoken while raising an eyebrow.
Facing my monster isn’t past-tense,
I face it all the time.
It never leaves me alone,
Whether at my worst, or at my prime.
Leave me alone.
I want to be free.
Who am I without you?
Would I even still be me?
If I slay it,
I do not know who I am.
It has been with me so long.
Is who I am a total sham?
Not knowing ourselves,
Is a scary thing.
Will I be an empty shell?
Will I continue to sing?
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