The beast in me is awake and I hope for your own sake that you'll never take anything from her plate.
She had seen better days and laid awake while the earth quaked and she never once thought to save herself because she got her wealth from the top shelf of life.
She had lost her sight and could not see the person she thought she'd be because all she knew was need.
Her soul shines brighter than the moon, but when she is around those who do not understand her, it burns brighter than the sun.
Her eyes glow with opportunity and her mouth speaks words no one can understand.
Through the eyes of man, however, all she seems to do is stand. She stands with her spine straighter than her priorities and her confidence sets everyone back because they do not know if and when she might attack, but it is all an act.
You see, she wants to be terrifying. Fangs bared, claws out and eyes as menacing as her own thoughts.
She wants to be the cause of that howl in the night yet she never wants to start a fight because her body would be rocked with so much fright if someone dared called her their enemy and maybe there will be a few if she decides to stay put after curfew when her time is up and her life is shut.
She wants to be that fifty feet tall, bulletproof skinned thing rising above the waves.
She wants people to cower in fear, to run from her, to go pale when they hear her name.
Nobody makes fun of a monster.
Everyone takes a monster seriously.
Everyone makes fun of me.
Nobody takes me seriously.
Not anymore.
I use to be respected because I demanded to be taken seriously now all I am is a joke, forced to laugh at my own failures because I am, all together, a failure.
YOU ARE READING
Words.
PoetryThis is a book I write in to relieve my mind of the horror it creates for itself. Poems or not, they're words. Definitions or examples, they're words. My words. Read it or not, they're my words.
