~monster Under My Bed~ Poem by Souren Mondal
~monster Under My Bed~
There's a monster under my bed
It paints my world bloody red
It takes medicines to keep me from killing myself or
others...
Angry, barren, confused, disjoined
thoughts
Incoherent
Nightmares with
screams of a woman who lied
A heart filled with black, black tar
That runs like tears from my eyes and paints it black
A frail liver damaged with alcohol
A soldier in a war...
A civilian turned into soldier in a war
I don't know who I am fighting
I don't know why
Or even,
For whom? ?
All I know is that fight I must
Or those images of
Broken skulls in a sea of blood
under the half moon tinted blue
will return,
And she will be there too
Neena!
In her dress with an Olé Luckoiè umbrealla
The third one...
And
I
a
man
lost
in
a
sea
of
blood
Will find no respite...
***
There's that monster under my bed
It's a spirit ethereal
No form,
no shape
But big enough to cloud my world...
Hungry enough to eat me alive....
Will it take me for breakfast? ?
Maybe lunch,
Or an evening snack...
I know I won't last until dinner...
I would be one of those skulls
in Golgotha
I know it will chop me from head to toe
like a brave warrior who turned traitor...
*
What is this? ?
This monster in red? ?
does it have claws? ?
or just teeth? ?
Or maybe it has tentacles
each one capable of sucking up life from me...
Extinguised soul,
extended pain,
A heavy heart,
and a broken soul...
This be the life..
No meanings anymore..
no logic
no shape
no symmetry...
Only a fire that burns
yet makes everything go dark....
Souren Mondal
April 15,2016
The past one month has been the worst of my life. It's been nine months, maybe ten since I had been on antidepressants. I was diagnosed with Major Depression and severe anxiety at the same time. I am also Borderline, and a good deal a few more stuff that I don't really care much. There had been so much of trouble. Insomnia, rampant substance abuse, self harm, and for a fair ammount of time, just sheer apathy... I was so apathetic that I cared for nothing. I felt nothing. No warmth, neither cold, just a strange sense of numbness.. Yes, it wasn't a 'senselessness' but a sheer, very sharp sense of numbness. I could feel that I could feel nothing. And all that had so far been taking me to places.
My medications are to me what God is to devotees. I live on that. I get the will to live on that. And now, for the last month or so, they have stopped working...
All I want to say is that I am greatly thankful to all of you out here. I don't know if I would ever be able to come back. This might be it. But if I do, I will come back better. Write better. If I don't write yet. I will read your poems, my friends. Kelly, Mike, Fabrizio, Dimitrios, 'the' Daniel Brick, Pamela, good ol' Wes, Valsa ma'am, Anthonio 'this man knows syllables like none' di'anno, Asim, Rajnish, Abhilasha, Akshat, Bharti, Sanjukta, and really sorry if I missed anyone...
I owe you all a lot.. Without you guys, I was nothing, , I won't be nothing either..
If I never write again.. I will still read your works.. The poet in me might die, the reader won't.. I am out.. Maybe for another week, month, or I don't know.. But I will miss you, and I will read you guys..
I owe you all a lot friends.. You taught me. You made a poet out of me. It's like the old trick question, if a tree falls in a wood and no one's there does it make a sound? ? - If a poet writes poems, but no one reads them, is she or he a poet? ? ?
Thank you all, my friends for being a part of my journey..
If I ever come back, I will be better...
Souren..
In childhood we all are scared of a monster under our bed. Here you have used it in a metaphoric sense for your state of depression. The dark images you have used convey depression very well. I find it a very artistic write. It's a theme many people can relate to. In the fast-paced modern world depression is a huge reality. Writing is a way of letting out the steam inside us. You have expressed yourself really well through this write. I hope you will beat depression n emerge stronger. I actually visited your page for inspiration n it's good to see you are writing again.
Hi Souren. It's been awhile since I've visited your page and I'm sorry to hear that you are not well. What Kelly said is correct, This is a disease and you have to fight that monster with everything you have. Keep writing. We support you. You are a wonderful poet and caring individual.
You will come back..... stronger and healthier! DON'T SUBMIT YOURSELF TO ABSOLUTE HELPLESSNESS! I feel for you as much as i feel for my son. My son is of your age. I HAVE ALWAYS A FEELING THAT YOU ARE IMMENSELY GIFTED. You shouldn't be shattered or broken. This world is not smooth for anyone. We might be misunderstood and misjudged by others and will be left in pain. But we shouldn't break like shards of glass. PLEASE KNOW THAT THERE ARE SOME IN THE WORLD WHO CARE FOR YOU. With a multiple fracture on my left arm, today I feel greater pain than any of the recent days. Still I write these lines as I care for you. Cheer up, Souren!
My dear friend, Souren. I could very well have written that verbatim. (Except for the name 'Neena') I think that you are stronger than you know, this poem is proof. Take as much time as you need but continue to write and even read. Mental disease is just that, a disease. Nothing of which to be ashamed or to shame. Peace and love my brother.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/23/2024 12:33:22 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Souren me lad, The site is a little emptier with out your participation I will write to you personally and tell you of an upcoming Oogie episode of which just you and I shall know. We can share the secret. Stay warm my friend.