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Oct 2017
A cruel monster drooling on it’s victims
It hollers in his cranium
Begging for attention
A child, maybe a teenager
Crying, desperately for help
Confused, repeating the same questions
Over and over again
Friends laughing at him
One or two genuinely concerned
The nurse reminds him where he is
Suddenly he’s aware of a phone in his hand
It feels lighter than a pen
“Mom? I’m okay.”
The rest of the conversation is blurry
Stumbling to a mirror
A lump can be seen on the right side of his head
Mount Everest
One moment he was playing in the fog
The next: black
What happened in those lost moments?
How did he get into that room?
Who helped him?
Who stood by laughing?
None of that matters
He's okay, he’s safe
Astonished, but safe
Unaware that years later
He would inflict this same effect
Willingly though
Calling it a cure
Self-medicated
Blackout
Something that once horrified him
Would become a safety net
The horror would return though
Memories are supposed to be clear
Not vague,
But then again,
They are monsters
And monsters are not friends
Jim Ellis
Written by
Jim Ellis  26/M/Minneapolis, MN
(26/M/Minneapolis, MN)   
  208
     victoria, Pradip Chattopadhyay and Timothy
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