i have been eroded.    
slowly chipped away by the flood of others love.
years of words and tears stored in the layers of my skin.  
my erosion has exposed a side of me,
of sedimentary rock composited of dry heaving and silent cries.
my erosion isnt pretty, but people will admire it and study it
thinking it will reveal beauty.  
when in reality, it never will.

this is it my friends
the finale line of my book
as you flip through the pages, take in me
my soul
live for me
when i was to much of a coward to do it on my own.

my parents always told me of monsters under my bed
or the ones that waited in the dark of my closet

but maybe it was me who was the monster after all