Heart

I am not the monster
that goes bump
in the night.

I am not the monster
that is savage and
destroys the flesh.

No,

I am the monster
burdened with a heart
to rip myself part by part.

I am the monster
that self-destructs
cathartic, beautiful.

I am the monster
with a tongue
knotted in the throat,

by choice.

I am the monster
with faulty restraint,
a smile with shadows.

No,

I am not the monster
you claim I am,
ready to destroy you.

You are not
what my existence encompasses,
not my center.

My core is my heart
my gift
my fault.

I am the monster,
the man-made disaster
toxic to itself --

and You are
an unfortunate casualty,
nothing more, nothing less.

Yes, selfish,
I suppose.

I am the monster
that is human
to the bone,

to the heart.