I was running for my life,
Each and every time it chased,
I ran out of breath,
As my heart thumped out of pace.

The monster was always there,
Feeding my worst illusions,
That tore my dreams apart,
Even my goals and my visions.

I’ve never met this creature,
I wonder how it looks,
Maybe as scary as the stories told,
Like in movies and good, old books.
Fangs as sharp as razors,
And voice as loud as thunder,
Imagination went out of control,
As my heart began to ponder.

Another day went by as usual,
Finding my happiness from around,
Measuring my self-worth through others,
Turning deaf to my own voice and sound.

I loved everyone so dearly,
To them I was loyal and true,
Again the monster started chasing,
As if it was a que.

One day, I finally decided,
That I had ran enough,
This monster now I will face,
I’ll show it who is tough.

As I turned around and stared,
At the monster in the eyes,
A shudder ran down my spine,
My body turned as cold as ice.
There were no fangs like razors,
Nor a thunder-like voice,
I was looking at myself,
Who asked, “To you, were you nice?”

I recalled all I had done,
On the days I always gave in,
The things I looked and gave around,
I should have looked and gave within.

Being a monster to myself,
I have made it this far ahead,
Imagine how much further I could make it,
If I became my own best friend instead.

Cover image by Massimo Negrello on Unsplash