The Monsters Under My Bed – Christine E. Ray

Monsters under my bed

when I can’t sleep

I lay on the floor

and hang out with the monsters

under my bed

I finally introduced myself

after I got tired of them

poking me in the middle of the night

mustered my courage

took a peek


They are quite the motley crew



resembles a giant porcupine

all razor sharp quills

shy gaze

caramel voice

she looks lovely

but it’s hard to get close enough

to really tell


Rage looks normal enough

as far as monsters go

but when he gets angry

which is often

his skin gets scaly

his eyes turn red

smoke starts to drift out

from his ears and nostrils

I find myself quite attracted to Rage

I want to stroke his reptilian skin

sit close to his heat

inhale his smoke

until my eyes burn red too


Invisibility is pretty quiet

mute actually

not so much invisible

as completely nondescript

I can never exactly remember what

Invisibility looks like

no matter how hard I try to look

my eyes slide right off

every time I visit Invisibility

it is like meeting for the first time


Memory resembles a ball of tightly wound yarn

pieces of barbed wire and broken glass

protruding out

mixed in with the occasional flower

and seaside picnic

Memory’s voice sounds like children laughing

Melissa Etheridge played in the dark

silent screams

heaving sobs

hanging out with Memory is exhausting


Detachment does most of the talking

she wears a sharp suit


sensible pumps

tortoise shell glasses

she carries a laser pointer

used to illustrate her talking points

when I mention that I expected the monsters under my bed

to be NightmareFearDeath

she shakes her head impatiently and tells me that those

are the monsters that haunt other people

the ones who only have imagination to rely on

those of us who have looked into the void

seen monsters wearing human faces

are a different story entirely


Hope looks like a sorority girl

at her five year college reunion

perfect make-up


just the right amount of accessories

dressed all in pink



always smiling

she could be squirting shoppers with perfume at Macy’s

she has a bright, breathy voice

always seems to be selling something

like a Club Med vacation in paradise

I don’t trust her

not one little bit


Little Me is the smallest

she likes to climb on my lap

hold both my cheeks in her cherub hands

look deeply into my eyes

hers are large




as though she has seen too much

half the time I want to turn away

from those knowing eyes

the other half I want to hold her

comfort her

she mostly hums

and sighs

but once she looked at me with her

somber timeless eyes and said in her little girl voice

‘it wasn’t your fault.  it was never your fault. . .

it was hard to get back to sleep that night


I mused out loud one night as I grew drowsy

on the carpet

that I wondered which monster under my bed

was scariest

it was suddenly silent

I realized that they were all staring at me

some shocked

some concerned

Detachment pointed her laser pointer directly my chest

‘you, of course

the scariest monster under the bed 

is the one you fear you will become’


© 2017 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All rights Reserved

Christine E. Ray is an indie author and freelance editor who lives outside of  Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.  You can read more of her work on her blog Brave and Reckless.  Her first book of poetry, Composition of a Woman, is available through Amazon and other major online book retailers.


7 thoughts on “The Monsters Under My Bed – Christine E. Ray

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s