There is the monster coming out of me
He's the only one that keeps me from the bleed
I'll let him rule my heart again
Keeps me far from everyone's sin
Harden what little heart I have left
Because all I did was wept
I'll never let love in
No never again
Sweet oblivion
Never to be forgiven
Heart in a blender
Life torn asunder
Let the moster out
Turn it all about
Never to let any one close
This is what I've chose
It's only way my life goes
Other wise agony just grows
My life has changed
My feelings are deranged
My soul mate is estranged
It's all been rearranged
So I let the monster roam
Only he can bring me home
I'm back in the dark
It's only right I'm marked
The broken only get thrown away
So in the trash I'll stay
I will turn invisible
Because I am just to miserable
I'll let the moster be
He's the only one that truly sees
He will keep me safe
Keep me from the painful place
The moster keeps everyone at bay
So I can robotically go through my day
My moster kills the feelings
My monster will do my dealings
My monster moves my limbs
My monster now lives in my skin

By:D.E.T

Goin' back from memory
I remember that I started to feel empty
When I saw a poster
Post D.E.T is a monster
All I did was blurt
A laugh although it hurt
Me, people tellin' me I'm a disaster
All I did was smile

Although that wasn't my style
But yeah, I smile

When everyone was gone
I sob the tears that I was holdin' on
From that day I knew that everyday
I had to pretend that I was okay
Even if it meant feelin' lonely deep inside
So, no one can see the pain
That I hide
Inside

Had to go through this everyday
But as I grew up I knew that was goin' to be the way
Cuz I'm used to being called a monster

Now that times passed by
My emotions are dry
So, go on call me a monster
Cuz I'm stronger
Tougher
Although they made me suffer

Come on put me on a cage
Where I find myself on the stage
Where I get call a monster
Now so, monster I have become
Onstage but I'mma gonna uncage
Myself
Put me on the cage
Write me a page
Tell the page that I am a monster

Now that time has fly by
Y'all stand aside
But y'all collide
Cuz I know karma
Is gonna come back and make pay for the drama
That caused people call me a monster

Yeah, moster I am my heart
Is now dark
Monster I am cuz y'all ******
My soul
Cuz y'all just wanted to ruin
My soul
But that only made you look cruel
Cuz y'all were nothing but

Don't need you to understand
So, you can stand
Where I land
Cuz I'm a monster like you said

Yesterday is dead and gone, tomorrow may not come
Lets go out and have some fun, come on and get you some
It is no relationship, just the here and now
We should live it up, I'm a monster on the prowl

Title          : My Life With
                     Monster Pain
Poet          : Phyll
Genre       : Life/Pain/sorrow
Year          : 2018
P/SwNO. : 116

( Content; this piece is based on my own true story and applies to our day to day life experiences.Anyone who reads this might find it weird and some actions i did to be stupid but i had no choice.Life is full of pain and when we find ourselves in this situation tend to shy off from our on demons instead of facing them.Personally pain pushed me to the walls twice i attempted to commit suicide with no success but just added more pain on myself.That's when i realised that,no matter how difficult life is and how much pain you endure DON'T give in to those crazy ideas that run through your mind but instead get positive and helpful idea.)

MY LIFE WITH MONSTER PAIN-By Phyll

Life is full of unexpected things,
Luckily,
you can be friends with your enemies;

Unfortunately,
your own life turn to be your enemies.

See,
life is full of surprises.

Funny it may seems, and at the same time,
It will hurt you truly with a monster called Pain.

In my life I have lost big opportunities,not once nor twice but uncountable times.

I had even forgotten how to smile,
how to see a bit further, beyond this misery.

I had also forgotten how to be happy,
how to trust anyone, give them power over me.

I had even forgotten how to be me,
I buried everything deep inside, just to hide it from others.


You taught me how to smile again,
to laugh without reason, to cry from the joy.

Dear Pain,
Thank you for revealing my error again,
showing that path of tears lie in sorrow, not in joy.

Thank you for taking it all away,
making me to hide myself again, to trust no one.

Thank you for telling I am nothing,
pointing my place, to be an outcast in life by my own choice.

And now
I'm making love
Not with a fake human being
But with a brand new razor blade.

Love me,
my razor blade.

Peel my skin,
make me scream.

Sink so deep,
make me weep.

Cut my flesh,
make me bleed.

Take my life,
set me free.

Conversing to myself like a mad man,
Not even 'like' but i had gone insane.

With nice little twist,
I slit my wrist...

Not waiting for life to ****,
rather my own blood I spill.

It's my own choice, I have no fears,
only pain, in eyes some unshed tears.

On the floor, blood making stains,
slowly releasing me from my pains.

****** stains, stains like in my soul,
caused by all the pain, this life Is so full foul...

Vision finally fading away, soon it's all done,
staring darkness, oh so black, soon it's all gone.

Soon I'm released, free from this pain,
suffering and life, it was all just in vain.

Thought,how funny blood makes difference between life and death,
farewell life, so painful, so useless, gonna take my last breath;I told myself.

The pain i felt left many queries unanswered but rather more questions continued acquired.

Why should I listen to my heart,
When It brings nothing but pain.
Why should I fall apart,
When Everytime is the same.

Why should I follow a fake a dream
knowing it will bring nothing but more scream
Why should I ... ?
When I ...

Do you feel me ???

Why should I wait all day?
I feel but I cannot speak it out,
Why do I feel this week weak?

You Moster Do you really feel me?

Why should I go through this agony?
Why can't I just follow my destiny?
Why can't I just let of life?
Maybe because ...
Maybe ... Maybe.

Dear Pain,I do feel You,
But have you ever felt me?

No doubt that;

The pain is in me,
The pain will not leave me.
The pain is all i feel in me,
It's now apart of me.

I just want to;

Cut out my heart,
Cut out my emotions.
Cut out you monster pain!

Only in darkness do i find peace,
Only in darkness can i escape.
Only if this darkness could stay,
But unluckily it wouldn't obey.

I just want to;

Cut out my heart,
Cut out my emotions.
Cut out you monster pain!

But this only added more pain,
I guess they were right;
When they said 'No Pain No Gain'.
The pain i felt made me gain more scars,lesson and experiences never to be forgotten in my entire life.

No doubt that,
Life is full of unexpected things,

Luckily,
you can be friends with your enemies;

Unfortunately,
your own life turns to be your enemies.

See,
life is full of surprises.

Funny it may seems, and at the same time,
It will hurt you truly with monster Pain.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
COPYRIGHT BY PHYLL
*(C)2018.

You always had a dream of the person you wanted me to become yet you never care what i thought.you never asked if it was what i want to be it was about you.i remember everything you tried to teach me and how bad it sounds now.

Always be what people want you to be move in the right cricles its all about money power and rescept.you want it take it no matter what the coast is.the world is yours so go ahead and  grab it and always be perfect.

This was the ugly moster you where trying to turn to me into i am
for not perfect.but i couldnt be that heartless or be someone who is shollow and fake.that just not me.


I just want to be me no one is perfect we all make mistakes we sometime get it wrong.i cant be fake and show people that i love them or care about them i am sorry.

My face is all swollen and red with the rage.
like a moster busting out of his cage
I enter the room with my Glock 25
Shoot them all dead leave no one alive
People will wonder how I got to this gate
With this twisted burning of concentrated hate
I was born into this world an innocent soul
But my innocence soon from me was stole
So now all of you ******* have got to go

she's always there
like a shadow
you don't need to look
you know she can't leave
"youre my bestest friend"
she says
"bestester"
it's an on-going game
"I love you more"
"most"
"moster"
no winners.
because she doesn't need to win.
she'd let you win.
because she's your shadow.
she's mine.

She was a beautiful dreamer
She had so much hope in her
Someone who was loved by everyone,
even me.

Beautiful soul, well now it's been broken.

No one saw her drown.
6 years ago that is.

It was quiet but fatal and so sly and slow that not even she knew it was coming for her
Sadness slowly soaked into her, it became permanent in her fragile bones.
It wasn't something she couldn't handle at first, but with time it possessed the good that was left of her.
How beautiful her smile was and her eyes so angelic, something tells me it's the tears she cries at bedtime that anglicised them so.

I never told you that after a while the pain, the sadness it got the best of her except that didn't stop her from making sure other people were happy.
But, slowly they diluted her hope.
Her own moster is what she has, what she had become.
An angel is how they somehow still saw, even what they still see her as.
That's the thing about her she managed to stay such a dear.
Quite sad rather, how no one really saw the pain in disguise but she was such a great pretender you can't exactly call them ignorant.

Well this was her, Sweet Tragic.
Oh Sweet Tragic.

Brocken shadows decide to linger
just a little longer.
The 12 am tears stain my face like bleach on a linen shirt
Dates with the dark are common
and the tsunamis of the past come to crash the world I' d so gracefully built
The brocken violin playing a sad song, the only one I know.
The ivy crawling up the old walls of the cage that keep me away from the outside world,the world I so miss to see.
The youthful one sings in the halls, her voice echoing and her delicate frame dancing before a single candle light. Yet when she turns, her face is seen crumbling, like the wall paper of the room.
No key will unlock the door that so blatantly is in front of me. I have tried to knock it down but my mortal blows are no match for the chains of this moster.
The stench of lonliness is overbearing. When will I smell the taste of freedom?
When will I walk the earthly ground?
When will I kiss the cheeks of life?
For the Gods only know, how trapped I am here.

the virus is raging: or so we're told -
i don't really mind whether we're told anything
anymore - i can finally come to grips
with the male version of the niqab:
just fine...

                              but once the virus impregnated:
whether our actual bodies or...
whether this: that be the detached from the herd
mind - whatever cull word: or choice of....

but... islam stopped: doing its business of
a revival... a revival... mind you...
that only involved the sunnis...
  it's like: the ******* would rather sweep their
whole schism under the magic carpet...
no... they wouldn't: they: sunnis...
wouldn't attack the sh'ites... the persians:
yeah... good luck with that...
the persians would bow before...
a bunch of camel jockeys:
  the library of baghdad...
              and: a library with only one book...
quasi-poetry: that damns poetry...

but i guess a book that takes hold of the heart
is much more than a book
that agitates the mind...
the bible: agitates the mind...
**** knows what it does to the heart...
but i'm sure to know that...
a proper adhan...
   can leave me in tears...
like...

but when i hear: da pacem domine...
or anything! anything resembling teuotnic songs
of the conquest of the baltic states:
too bad for merry ol' german...
having converted the prussians...
the prussians...
well: the revenge of the pagans over
their christian overlords...
or some **** like that: otherwise a different cover...
so much so that...
the polacks stood a chance with the kashubians...
and the silesians...
mongrel tongue they are much at home
than if ruled over by prussians...

jihad: a war of reclaiming land...
never a war of intrusion...
you reclaim all you have lost:
but you do not claim new land...
it's not a holy war beside:
what has to occur naturally: the growth of
an idea: that the enzyme is a sword...
well: no one's perfect...

but given there's a break from
fetish fashisto islamism...
     turban afghan / saudi sunni **** flinging
pajamas... well...
what about the hugo boss uniforms you
promised with all that oil money you ******
away on yachts and ****** that:
those ****** were waiting for you in jannah?!

of course i'm teasing the mamluk and
the janissary...
if you fed me... adhans... poetry...
and then: speeding to modern times...
played me as this egyptian stranger...
in amsterdam: architecture student... genius doodler...
an afternoon with him... beers and some jojo-and-mary...
in amsterdam... or... the previous afternoon
and these two slobs: germans...
and he gave me a song to listen to...
how the world dwarfed...
le trio joubran - masar...

i have nothing in christianity: a headache...
i tried judaism: too complicated...
linguistic avenues: herr zensor ha-shem:
the name of: kether: keter -
crown... you can only be so smart...
before: ehyeh asher ehyeh just because the same
bogus "trip" of pickled intellect you
have with that trinity and: fraction...

da pacem domine...
            muhammad can start wearing a niqab
at this moment... i don't even know whether
a proselyte status is teasing me:
i can't tame a heart: esp. my own...
but seeing the clear reduction of islamic
intrusion into christian affairs of:
yawn... usury? iconoclasm?
                        contra: the former...

you sold me on the romance of mamluk and
jannisary... because i'm fat from being tired
from what christianity has to offer...
honestly... even if there was a nag hammadi
library revival of the gnostic section...
or... 100 years from now...
there was news about the fate of isaiah
and the dead-sea-scrolls...

                 the muslims are not attacking...
by the grace of god...
some authoritarian mouthpiece from their shitpile
of clueless stopped talking...
and the adhan could be listened to: again...
and rumi minimalism could be read:
sufism! could be digested...

my mind can wander calendars... days and decades...
dreams and deja vus...
it can cross boundaries inanimate object
territory and turn to all things fuzzy
in the realm of hallucinations:
denial, doubt, conviction
in one way or another...
fractions of synonyms...

i cherish the one libra... the heart's:
yes....           or...                      no...
then there's the christianity that borrows too much
from its: "cultured" / cultivated paganism...
whether greek or trojan (alias latin)...
i'm tired of these arguments...
they're either claustrophobic (without any
evidence of clarifying workable space)....
trash: recycling matter... per-haps...

                      hoarder peoples of the world
"unite"... no... i'm "bored" and just exhausted
by the secular arguments or how
the trinity fraction ingenuity should work...
when islam is stsarting to turn lazy...
i figured: the romance associated with
the mamluk and the janissary is open, yes?

sufism and the indivisible one?
the vector: the north: point north vector -
the frankenstein moster clue: that's still open?
will i meet the drawfish turks along the way...
and they'll come up with...
canons for ****-open the walls
of constantinople?

      ever convert someone by way of
shrivelling up their testicles or crucifying their
mind on the altar of phobias?
if you don't have the heart...
you might as well be gagging for an achilles' heel...
if that!
christianity and pop cult. secularism...
i'm bored of worshipping
a static demigod...

        how many demigods came...
preceding? but this demigod is the fraction
celebration: the intellectual *******
of people who: cared not for...
the ferris wheel, etc.
                    
         rome is no more!
holy rome is no more: the "*****" achieved its purpose...
citing Casimir III also helped...
the nomads moved: jumped over the pond...
spider patience as released into
the city-scape: well of course... well done!
applause!

the question "question" is never asked...
given... hasn't christianity become a quasi-polytheism?
how many denominations?
too little gods: and the one...
as a fraction... can just keep on giving:
yet another preceding 0 of: the divided fraction
booth...

         the schism within islam was hardly
an intellectual:
all these "byzantine" precursor details...
such a bothersome spectacle for all:
that mind the bureucratic shoo! shoo!
              an intellectual affair:
                       worldly affairs... Ali was promised x...
the caliphs decided on project y...
the integrity of "the prophets" word:
while aging... senile yet still *******
a fresh cherub-and-orange akin to...
                 Khadija **** Khuwaylid still on my mind...
in praise of older women...

according to malcolm X and: cassius clay...
islam knows no race...
since... christian fwench... catholic...
spaniard catholic: later christian...
german retro: swiss...
anglican fudge-packers...
             yes... islam is not a nationality:
nor is it a race...
then again: what is croat... former yuogoslav...
or greek...
when... ahem... all that matters is...
h'american patriotism?!
if only the h'americans can be patriotic...
only the 50 shingles and twin barons
of stripes is on the ready...
the h'americans are: patriotic!
the rest of us are being nationalistic:
cousin-******-******!
can't islam come via Sarajevo and...
become... an escape plan?

   Ezra Pound might have cited:
the former proud stance of christianity against
usury... and now...
loan-sharks...
   i could be a slave to islam because
i could finally escape the "lost" e in
a ethnic grouping that has me locked in with...
the st. petersburg crowd...
the slavs...         and the germans: are... germs...
east a vowel - prefix at the wrong moment...
thank god that islam is not a people
but an idea...
and i'm burning with it...
without need to make or meet
proper formalities of conversion...
by heart's analogy of the mind's banquet
of the thesaurus...
when will the simple yes...
or the simple no arrive?
i don't know...
                i don't want to know...

after all: will you frequently hear...
of a *** / 'ebrew convert?
no! of course not! it's a... v.i.p. club...
you being a jew is more than an "idea"...
yep... it's exactly "also" a race...
you don't get to bypass all the cousin *******
cousin inbreeding on a whim...
you don't get to be given a "choice"...
while islam readily converts...
new blood...
islam readily converts because...
you were never a chosen within the confines
of the distinct few:
which is nice...
islam readily converts: while christianity willingly
abandons...
why am i looking into a mamluk /
janissary romance novel genre?
will i write one?
do i look like someone to turn a silver
spoon into a ***** and fake
a sigh?

dare i: dare not i: "not i"...
back into the basic structure of words:
back into syllables...
words like: da-je (it's giving)
                           i forget all the other mamas' and
papas'... "lyrics"...
i'm just bored of the exclusivity and
inclusivity of peoples...
mind you: i mind more...
what's that: fidgeting me... irritating me...
such the atom: like the letter abounding
around them...
it's nothing special... it's just: fudge...
and a simple metaphor of concrete and
indigestion to have to... endure...
gorge... digest...

                i'm bored of christianity
because of the ruling "christianity" of h'america...
back to basics: son of sam...
thank god for the atlantic ocean...
some distance... some perspective...
evangelical: denominations of old world
protestantism...
no... all the basics of:
looking at women with "fun" prospects...
joy... what about the joy of a bicycle...
it's like ******* retards claiming:
casper the friendly ghosts and
spiderman were touch-up buddies to sooth...

thank you h'america... send me back
to afghanistan... and pashtun womens' poetry...
too many minutes spent on this insomnia footprint
of the web: i still believe a t.v. and a computer
and internet access should be akin
to resembling a fireplace... fixed locations...
no?
i don't actually mind:
eating a burger and getting a blockjob
like driving a car...
on a smooth motorway...
try the same... and giggling... on horseback...

if i could gonvern myself to establish a matrix
of prayer - rummagings of a lacklustre
of schiphrenia - perhaps...
for all the freedoms "imposed":
and not imposed - shimmy shimmy -
and all that isn't received as: to pass...
restrictions galore...
the smooth shake-me-up...
secular: testicular clean shaven *******
tip of luck when licked: etc.

           yeah... yeah: sign me up for that...
pedestrian safehaven!
the promises of science...
                  the christian day to day...
and the... straitjacket of islam...
or... or... prop-er... PWOPH-EER "judeo-christian":
and some salty Cicero...
and some pepper stiff 'istotle!
                  
   love is... love is: pseudo-echo: his eyes...
and all the little idiosyncracies still alive in me:
that makes me focus on me:
and not on... the expendable you...
     all i want is to focus on these details
without having to infringe on: detailing you...
to what...
                impaled... which has to be
more insufferable than a crucifixion...
but... let's not mind that...

              the detail comes around with:
the civic world is a world that the ancient
romans laid a claim on...
the rest? that the romans didn't lay...
a claim on? fifth partition of poland...
a ****** job over the "question" of iraq...
i'm not this "white" ****-boy's boor...
but that i am: since i'm not his baron.

- all that bob woodward & carl bernstein
achieved... deep-throat alias
of that ninja in m.g.s. PSI...
but what i included... but what jonathan landay
and warren strobel couldn't...
it breaks, the "heart"...
or at least the mind... capable of...

- honestly... i never much appreciated
rembrandt...
but... what wouldn't... otherwise...
a sobering-up sessions of sitting on the edge
of the bed do... otherwise:
better good... than the thus presented...
than... hang-over... looking at prints
of the aging rembrandt...
no... not the zenith... the impeding
nadir...

          would it still be necessary for me
to ingest from l.s.d.?
the lazy strokes of grace-
any other adjective of pompous
sycophancy is open: though... to be added...
no... not because his a well known name...
but because: i never found the sort of
raw beef: or the sort of stomach...

the question of the "question"...
within the realms of the diaspora...
that's a hard "question"...
given the diaspora is... a status quo that...
look at the orthodox yids / hebs
of brooklyn...
they're not leaving and brooklyn isn't...
either... the question of a people
without a diaspora...
is still only a "question"...
like that: MADE IN CHINA... "question"...
i still haved things in my possession that have...
MADE IN HOLLAND...
MADE IN INDIA... MADE IN IRELAND...
hell... even MADE IN BANGLADESH
makes you believe in a higher quality than...
all that CHeap CHequers ***** from
the land of BING JING... and the squirming
dwagon...

ask any thai or any... the chinese are not
the best parts of h'america...
and the worst parts of russia...
and... all the rest: reincarnated horde motto:
mongol...
joke... stinking camel jockeys will
not touch a squat of pork for fear
of the silk road mafia:
yow-eatz the stinking sheepz...
me eatz pork & leather
    me eatz pork & leather...
                                     shoe?! shoe?!

shrimp **** gets a hard-on and there's no
mushroom saxon esq. 1960s mantra...
of toll culture!
               well: shrimp **** is hardly:
a korean sand-bag or a piece of japanese
porcelain skin... whiter than porky-pink
gets handled by haggling over Libya...
and the Spanish... sun... tan!
- it's a good nuance though...
given that... all of the baltic sushi is
ascribed the status of: herring herring herring;
raw... yes... in a gherkin infused
cream... creamy dreams of a less robotic...
less stockholm syndrome... Stockholm...
the museum of the tomb of the Vasa ship...
and all those yachts...
seeing Stockholm... no need to see Oslo...
Helsinki... Copenhagen... seeing St. Petersburg...
i really... really need to see Istambul;
smoled salmon... rye bread...
mayonnaise... cucumber... dill...
rainbow trout caviar...
it would be a luxury... caviar...
if everyone was willing to eat it...
but... given the price... only a few could...
caviar would be a yacht symbol of richness...
no... you want a better summary?
caviar is... marmite...
you either love it... or hate it...
everyone almost everyone:
the greater majority... can stomach...
poultry abortions...
caviar is not a luxury... it's an idiosyncracy;
there's no "acquired" taste...
it's something akin to: the web architecture
a priori in the confines of
'ed... of the spider...
or how... the woodland pigeon builds
a nest... "from thin air"...

             learning to walk...
is so class-A drug... bourgeoisie...
                perhaps there was a russian revolution...
perhaps there was the industrial revolution...
all in all: there was only the french revolution.

they all suround me
calling me a villan
a freak
a deamon
a monster
just because how i act
my personality
my insaneity
and i realize if they waunt a moster ill give it to them
ill unleash my rath
just because they waunt a villan
but i realize that villans dont get happy endings
but no matter what i do
IM A MONSTER

I can't stop it
I can't bear it
The monster comes to knock
I can't feel it
I can't shake it
The monster leaves me in shell shock
I want to think it
I want to write it
The moster watches me like a hawk
**** you writers block

Im just a girl
With friends how happen to be boys

I don't see my friends
But once a year

You my a have a problem
That I'm a girl
And your son is a boy

But where old enough to know better

So don't be a controlling moster on your son
And don't blame me when you can't find him

And we won't have a problem

A moster called a smasher

They say your heart
Is a heart of gold
Never broken
Never been stolen
I though to myself
How could this be true
I spoke to him for the first time in ages
His eyes looked inlighten
His mouth looked egor to kiss the cracked lips of another
A gentle imbrace of a warm hug
Welcomes me with the words im sorry
Flashbacks full my mind
How could he not be broken?
More words flowed out
From the many years
Of not speaking      

He told me
I never texted back
That we could never be close again
That he has alway been waiting
He stopped to think
And he ended with the heartbreaking words
I loved you once
I loved you twice
I thought you were nice
You took my heart
And smashed it into pieces

I felt sick
Had I become a smasher?
I whispered
I waited for your message
It never came
Slowly we moved apart
We went our own ways
What was I meant to say

You were meant to say I love you