"We stop looking for monsters under our beds when we realize they're inside of us."
Jordyn Berner

I think I understand that now.

That first night, I felt like I was 8 years old again. Standing at Peggy's Cove watching Hurricane Juan come in.
wondering what's to come.
That's a lie.
'cause I knew you were trouble when you walked in,
I mean, you kissed me, hard, before you even knew my name,
you were sinful, ginful.
but your lips tasted warm, and salty like sea spray on a hot sunny day

On the morning of September 30th, 2003, I woke to find the pillars of my childhood fantasies in ruin, buried in flattened forest behind my house.
I never knew something so wonderful could be so cruel.

I wish I'd remembered that.
You have become the reason I am scared of warm waters again,
You are the reason I feel like I -love-yous can be washed away.
You, you monster.
You Devil you.

And yet, you've shown me grey areas in each of our black and white horror flicks,
How every character thinks, at one point, he is doing something right.
Even God thought Lucifer was beautiful an hour before he fell, I think
there is no such thing as surprise endings, and I think
that we can't help who we love, there are monsters inside all of us.

I, am the reason you're scared of mirrors and for the bags under your eyes

I shoot ***** looks like silver bullets when I'm mad,
I write hate mail and call it poetry.

So, villain, yes, I will show you the spots where you have beat me black and blue
But yes, I will admit I hurt you too
This is the *** calling the kettle black.
Its proof that two monsters can fall in love,

All we ever see is monsters, falling,
beasts only seem beautiful for a little while and beauty is,
Well,
There are no monsters that deserve it..

But I believe God still writes letters to Satan, he's just
forgotten the home address,

Like I believe you are a beautiful full moon,
Howling has always been the best way I can reach you.
You bring out the worst in me.

And the best of me.
There was a time you chose both.

So, maybe, maybe admitting you're a monster isn't such a bad thing.
Maybe we could have learned to live with it.
I say "we" like your claw marks are still fresh on my heart.

Darling, I'm still looking for that third word for passion,
that word for being so deep in love people mistake for homicidal hatred,
The word for people who never deserved to be happy.
I was never happy with you.
I never needed to be.

My beloved monster,
I will tuck your memory into bed with me.
I will never let you go.