the Monster

and so,

she put all her pain and suffering

into one drawer

the drawer of pain

The photo of her

dead daughter

a crucifix that had fallen off

a rosary

given to her by the priest,

a letter from her sister

some unpaid bills

and she closed the drawer

and then she locked it.

but one night as she lay sleeping in her bed

(the drawer just a few steps  away)

all the pain locked up inside

gathered together

eyes, a nose, a mouth,

bones and flesh

it formed

and grew and grew

in the drawer

and, as she lay dreaming,

a vicious banging from inside

startled her awake….

the monster within banged and banged and banged

“let me out, let me out”, it screamed

She lay


beneath her covers

yes, frightened stiff.

‘if I’m really quiet and really still

he won’t even know I’m here.’

But the banging persisted and became louder and louder.

‘Okay then’ she said out aloud.

‘I’ll show you what a scream sounds like’

And so she started screaming, so loud that even

the most crazy person would have labelled her unwell

but after a while

she became too sore to carry on



she stopped

but still she could hear the monster

in the drawer…

‘The gun, where is my gun’

‘I will just shoot it,’ she decided…

but a she reached for her gun,

she made a strange realisation


the sound of the monster’s cries

seemed to have shifted

and were coming from within herself…

she would have had to kill herself to kill the monster…

in that absurd realisation

She finally surrendered.

And got out of bed.

She shuffled to the drawer

unlocked it

expecting the worst.

but inside,

it was just as she had left it-

a photo,

a crucifix,

a letter,

and some unpaid bills.

so she took out the image

of her daughter

now long gone

and she stroked it,

and as her first tear fell

on the

photo’s frame

the monster’s cries

that had kept her up for so long…..

finally abated.



7 responses to “the Monster

  1. This held me awe as I read it…such deep pain within the lines of the poem.

  2. Pingback: Responding to the Monster « Poetic Motion

  3. beautiful… read like an old and wise folk tale… one, that many of us should probably read and keep in the back of our minds whenever we think our “pain drawer” is the best we can do…

    • thanks so much samantha for your kind words, and for coming past and posting a comment. yes, the pain drawer can get so filled up, we can’t even close it and yet we still try to.

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