When I was a kid, there were no monsters under my bed
Instead I had a mother who just wanted me dead
She once held a pillow right over my head
And was then taken away and put onto heavy meds

I wasn't scared of boogie men, and had no fear of ghosts
My mother was the beast in my youth that I feared the most
When she got on her meds, she was practically comatose
She was a mindless zombie, and grew worse with every dose

It broke my heart to see this, my mom was so far gone
But I just didn't get it, I couldn't fathom what was wrong
My mother was so lifeless, from the pills they kept her on
Her face was grey and blank, and my poor face grew long

I knew she was unstable, but my heart broke for her
It wasn't all her fault that she was such a monster
I wished I could fix her, and that love could occur
But nothing could make her affection for me stir

I envy the kids that had beasts under the bed
The kids whose only nightmares were living in their head
I'm jealous of the children whose mothers never said
"I regret the day I had you, and I wish that you were dead."

When people see
Romeo and Juliet
Die together
They think
"How poetic".
Want to know
What's really poetic?
The sound of the chords
That resonate through the piano
When I take a hammer
To its keys.
Or the way my heart
Reshapes itself
To wrap around your soliloquies
About how you don't need me.
You see,
When two people
Fall desperately in love,
It isn't poetic-
It's the things we do
For those who don't
Reciprocate that love
And the ignorance we hold
Against their disinterest.
We **** ourselves every day
For those who live just fine
Without us.
And that's stupid.
That's life.
That's poetry.