I spent a lifetime running

not from a monster under my bed, but the man supposed to save me from them

desperately avoiding letting myself become him

and ignoring the pain and tears with rum

forcing me to succumb to my genetic path full of alcohol and drugs

a familial remedy of the torturous heirloom; a cycle never broken or fixed

so as my mother before me

and hers before her

i hide my face blindly

door shut tightly

might the monsters come