Monsters under the Bed

The nights are dark, cold and long. But it's the early mornings that I fear the most. It's when the monsters under the bed come alive. They don't have long teeth or contorted face, nor do they make scary noise. Rather they look like the people I once loved. People who once made promises of never going away. People whom I fear the most. All day I put my best efforts not to remember those faces again. I sweep them under the bed where the light gives in to darkness. They wait patiently while feasting on the land beyond oblivion. The early dawn when the sunlight hits the sleepy floor they come out from under the bed. Their silent whisper sounds like betrayal. Their kiss feels like broken promises. Their laugh echoes through the walls of my crumbling sandcastle. I want to stop them from touching my face with their long, rotting fingers but I can't move. I want to scream, 'Go away fuckers!' but I have no voice.
Every morning I wake up with bloodstains on my pillow.

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