T H E M O N S T E R W I T H I N M E
The trembling fears
balanced across the lines
of life and death,
struggling to survive.
The monster under
my bed never existed,
for my fears thundered
into fantasies twisted.
There never was a creature.
I was the demon.
Blood stained my features
coating them in feeling.
Damned, I was.
The monster inside me
ravaged with lust,
waiting for the key.
My fears breached,
drowning me in tears.
I could not reach.
I could only disappear.
Only because I was the monster within me.
YOU ARE READING
To The World
Poetry"the inferno of words would be my demise if i did not express them." #501 in poetry #640 in poetry #689 in poetry #692 in poetry
