Ones that creep, crawl and cry,
Ones that howl, hurt and terrify,
Ones that live in the deep dark hole
That feed on your flesh, as well as your soul.
People tell me they aren’t real,
But I greatly disagree,
For monsters who hurt and cause so much pain
Aren’t always ones with horns and fangs.
Yet they are the ones that creep and lie,
That destroys, hurt and terrify
They live in the holes of our depression
And they consume our souls; a monsters impression.
— Tiane Marie Oliver
This poem was written by a 13-year-old girl who has suffered greatly with depression since Hurricane Katrina and read aloud by her mother at the conclusion of the most recent City Council mental health committee meeting. On the panel that day were those who govern our mental health care discussing the impending closure of emergency and acute mental health services at the LSU Interim Hospital as a means of balancing their recent budget. However, as the poem was read, most who are responsible for making these cuts had already left the room to return to their enclosed offices in the bowels of City Hall — shut away from the reality of this nightmare soon to wreak havoc on our city streets.