THE MONSTERS UNDER OUR BED

Why do we do this to ourselves?
We think there are monsters under our bed
But are they really in our head?
What’s really in our closet?
Skeletons to unravel, or just shirts and bones?

Do I possess it or am I possessed?
How many seasons have passed without knowing?
Autumn’s bones show the scars were never there
Just like the monsters under our bed
They’ve only ever been in our head