His little whispers
"Love me, Love me"
That's all I ask for
"Love me, Love me"
He battered his tiny fists
to feel something.
Wondered what it's like to touch,
and feel something.
Monster, how should I feel?
Creatures lie here,
looking through the window.
That night he caged her,
bruised and broke her.
He struggled closer,
then he stole her.
Violet wrists and then her ankles,
silent pain.
Then he slowly saw their nightmares,
where his dreams.
Monster, how should I feel?
Creatures lie here,
looking through the window.
I will
hear their voices.
I'm a glass child.
I am Hannah's regrets.
Monster, how should I feel?
Turn the sheets down.
Murder ears with pillow lace.
There's bathtubs,
full of glow flies
bathed in kerosene.
Their words tattooed in his veins.
YOU ARE READING
Monster
Non-FictionHenry is a 6 year-old boy whose father would abuse him, beat him and call him monster. Because of that, as he grew older, he couldn't understand what emotions were; love, happiness — none of them. So he raped a girl, assuming that that was called 'l...
