Calling all my monsters...

Any of you monsters
I've spat upon,
shouted at,
hidden from,
slapped numb and bitten back -

all of you young monsters, who
I've turned away from bed -
whose claws I kicked off balconies
the mornings after
when you were hideous and brave
from being overfed -

I know now
you were throwing your bodies down
to trip me
because I wasn't ready
for my path -

I know
you only meant
with every slice you made in my heart
to let the guilt leak out,

to tell me
I haven't been treating you right.
I've been feeding you junk food.
I didn't play with you enough,
lovely ugly dears;
I should have gotten to know you
sooner.
We ought to talk.

All you horned, scabby, scruffy,
drooling,
gnashing,
nasty
parts of me -
come back where you belong.
There is room in my chest
for us to make friends.