Monsters

Sometimes I think I have two ghosts inside of me. Regret and hate, self hate, haunt the dark. And the smile, is a mask For my light. Sometimes I see her The light inside of me but The skeleton Of who I wish to be Eats away the smile, breaks away my bones. The crippled part of who I used to see; She's dead. She's gone. Some people say That as we grow old The monsters stray from our closets And under our beds. They say, that they make homes in our minds. I suppose I'm still fighting mine.