the darkness is more blinding
for even with my eyes shut,
monsters are more vivid than reality

silence becomes more deafening
for in silence, the screams in my head
are louder than roaring thunders

I am afraid of this emptiness
but I would rather stay here forever
for I am at peace when the lights are out

Abuse is a vicious cycle
that defiles and murders love.
It is a game
that only breeds hatred.
It uses shame
as a weapon.
In this vicious cycle; hearts no longer beat,
they get replaced by fists.
In this vicious cycle;
the tattoos that were meant for affection
become nothing but scars on the wrists
of those who were once lovers.
It awakens a bloodlust and makes monsters
out of strong people.
No, not monsters. It makes recidivists
out of strong people.
The strong abusing the weak,
a norm that continues to contribute to the cycle of abuse
It is a cycle that forces us to make love
to our doubts.
It keeps on violating us until our self-doubts
have consumed us
and
we've evolved to hate ourselves.

created by Mortals, or simply
an act of the mind.
generated by intentions dark,
entered by the unaware and made to
shackle Monsters.

There are texts and stories
etched in and beneath
the skin we see,
that makes certainty
an arrogance beyond belief,
while same said suffering
can make monstrosities;

but you don’t have to
like or love the beast
to see with empathy
the place from which
their tragic tale came.

across from me,  
a god so i thought he seemed.
ink and paper in front of my eyes,
i sketched him out.
and too my surprise
something so frigtening
on the white sheet.
I can’t run now
he’s watching me.

It's the quietest time of night
Where the moon has peaked
All is hushed
And you're supposed to be asleep

But your mind plays games
Making noise that keep you awake
Mocking your restlessness and fears
Little monsters play tug-of-war
And swing from moonlit chandeliers

I Find comfort in the dark
A pitch black tranquility
But little monsters search for a thought
To keep me awake unwillingly

Heart steadies like the sea
Holding on to the evanescent dreams
Waiting for the pounce of little feet
Jumping on on you like a trampoline

They've finally tuckered themselves out
From running about
They curl up beside me
And count their sheep
Beside little monsters
I sleep