One night -
Of love,
Of passion.
Nine months –
Of lying,
Of pretending.
I am born,
And immediately
Unwanted,
Unloved,
Undesired.
I am born,
And immediately
Smothered,
Protected,
Sheltered.
I am called
A Gift,
But I was not
Presented;
Rather,
I was
Carelessly
Created.
I am called
Son,
And though I do
Shine
Brightly,
My heat
Burns everything around me.
It burns me as well,
From the inside
Out.
I am called
Monster,
And could I be anything else?
Born of two monsters,
(As are we all)
How could I not be
Monster as well?
But monster
Is not what I want to be.
So I read,
I learn,
I understand;
This world
Is nothing
But monsters;
Creatures
Crawling everywhere;
Pretending to be benevolent,
Pretending to love and cherish and care.
But I still don’t want to be
Like them.
So I read,
I learn,
I understand;
I don’t have
To be a monster;
No one does.
But the only way to become
Anything else,
Requires
Facing the monster you are;
Finding the heat inside yourself,
Touching it,
Letting it burn you,
So you can feel
And heal
And understand.
I find my heat,
My inner monster.
I face it,
Grab it by the core,
Let it burn me until I am ash.
And then
I begin to heal
And learn
And understand.
I am no longer
Monster;
But I am still
Surrounded
By monsters.
And they are all too afraid
To face themselves,
To see their truth,
To touch their inner fire
And let it burn.
I am
Surrounded
By monsters,
And their heat
Is burning everything around them,
And I am not equipped
To put out so many fires.