I am no longer blind to the monsters in this world
I used to think monsters hid in your closet
Or under your bed
But I was young and blind
I see the monsters for who they are now
They don’t hide under your closet
They aren’t waiting under your bed
They are human
The real monsters are us

Step a little closer
Don't be afraid.
I am merely the monster
Everyone else has made.

Gone is my innocence
My purity my youth.
This world has changed me
It's the evil truth.

Cursed by vanity.
Plagued by insanity.
Caught in the charade
Of life's endless masquerade.

Between the heartache
And pain,
I've lost myself
And will never be the same.

Drowning in deceit
Lies have taken full affect.
Tortured by reality
The agony I inject.

Pieces of me have died
A little bit one by one.
I'll continue breaking
Until I have none.

Strength is a virtue
I was born without.
That came to me later
After learning what this world is all about.

So why should I apologize
For the monster I've become?
No one has ever apologized
For the damage they have done.

By:
T.K.

There's nothing wrong with grieving.
There's nothing wrong with taking your time. There's nothing wrong with saying "no."
There's nothing wrong with not being ready to go.
There's nothing wrong with you
if you feel you want to be alone.
There's nothing wrong if you're feeling blue.
But most importantly,
There's nothing wrong with you.

You’re bad for my mental health.
And that’s all I can say.

i'm not in love.
not in love with the way
your eyes follow
my every move.
not in love with the way
you run your fingertips
across my skin,
memorizing every detail.
not in love with the way
you make me smile.
not in love with the way
you make the overwhelming
noise of life quiet,
even if it's just for a moment.
i'm not in love,
but so what if i was?

I want to be alone,
alone with you.
What's wrong with me?

You feel like
A ghastly mist, crawling up my toes
Touching frozen ground as you wrap
The soles of my feet in pasty white.

You feel like
Wet hair seeping through every thread
Of a pillowcase where you rest your head
Cold, warm, cold, warm—uncomfortable.

You feel like
Sore eyes from screens too bright
As you type in bold, black thoughts
A manifesto of the conflicts within.

You feel like
A room with no light, air, and sounds
Stagnancy echoing—the streaks, the blowing, the ringing
Were all dampened, washed out, unheard of.

You feel like
The sudden flash of blindness in the sky
Overlapping the deepest violets with such crisp tear
And they, too, tear as well.

You feel like
An intrusive intrusion of an intruder
An interlude to all the things you've done
An intermission to the tango that has just begun.

You feel like
A stale yet warm yet ugly yet comforting embrace
I wrap around you just to seep in every inch
Of what only you could offer.

You feel like
The last beginning of the endgame
The enshrouding entrance of what is to come
The naked piece of the puzzle
I have yet to grasp fully

You feel like
Bitter goodbyes
Unfiltered eyes
And crimson skies.

Tell your muse to slap herself
buy a gun and cap yourself
buy a farm then buy the farm
buy the sheep that spins the yarn

take your words and shove them!
take your birds and love them!
put nothing else above them...

not even air

tell your side to ready for battle
by some fencing and by some cattle
buy a ranch and buy the farm
shave the sheep that spins the yarn

I know that what I've done so far
Has really helped people.
But sometimes, I wish I didn't care so much. Sometimes, I would give anything to be numb. Because it's so exhausting being a castle of glass. I can't sleep. I can't breathe. Because every day,  I feel myself getting one step closer to the catalyst. The thing that makes me ready to take everything I've built and burn it down. Because in the end, does any of it really matter?