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,
