monster movie night

you impress your friends
with your stillness
watching horror films.
you don’t tell them
about the monsters
you’ve seen.

the monsters that
came out from under the bed,
crawled under the covers.
there was no swell
of dissonance to warn you,
no time to brace yourself
or prepare for
how their fire hands
and scratching claws
left ghost shaped scars
that still haunt you.
you kept your eyes closed
for the worst parts,
let your bruised mouth
reshape itself:
from hurt to nothing.
your raw lips remember
trying to form words
before being smothered.
until your voice doesn’t
remember being used
for something other
than trying to scream.
that’s all you want:
to yell something primal
and guttural, let your
throat rip itself apart
until it resembles
the rest of your
crumbling, charred body.

your friends use their hands
to cover their eyes, pull
blankets over their heads
and ignore the suffering
flickering right in front of them.
you use your hands to cover
your ghost shaped scars,
don’t mention the script
you’re writing: a horror film
to make the monsters cower
until you’re the one doing the haunting.

by callie hensler

Biography:

Callie Hensler is a lover of words who is currently pursuing a masters degree in music therapy. She writes mostly to deal with her queer girl heart. Her writing is complied at loyaltea.tumblr.com and she can be contacted atcallie.hensler@gmail.com