Monsters

I suffocate in these expectations, deep ones my parents, my ancestors set in the ground for me, so deep they're burned into the roots of the soil, like a death symbol staring through each inch of my body. there is nowhere to hide from the monster society built just for me. Hiding from him under my duvet, coated with a baby-blue blanket, and a green one with cartoon characters sprawled over it, I feel the cheap but comfortable cotton rub against my sweaty and flushed skin. It's better, because he's not staring at me anymore. He's not towering over me, whispering lies I refuse to hear. But he's still there, He lingers there, at the foot of my bed ready to pounce, ready to tower over me, ready to whisper in my ear once again "you'll always be on your own kid, don't forget it" as I have to sit there, frozen like a statue, smelling his sweet meaty breath, while inside my mind I scream and I yell and I throw a snotty tantrum like when kids lose their favorite toy. As usual, I drift into sleep in uncomfortable comfort. But every night he gets gradually smaller, his belittling whispers become quieter, his confrontational tone diminishes like a gas bulb after years, his rancid breath fades away. I s