"I'm scared."
"I know baby, me too,"
Monsters are more than the ones beneath your bed.
They are the ones who stare too long.
The ones who's hands always wonder.
Monsters are the people who feel no guilt.
Who live by feeding themselves on clotted blood.
They strap you down with their eyes and feast on the marrow of your bones.
You may be a shaking mess.
You may be choking on you own breath.
Because that's what monsters do.
The tear and they tear until their leaching themselves from your very core.
"But I promise you baby, I'm right here."
YOU ARE READING
Scattered
PoetryThis is some of my creative writing. It's a collection a poems I hope you enjoy. Please vote and share your thoughts!
