My monster will be the scarriest monster of them all
He will not be big because
sometimes the scarriest things come in the smallest packages
She will have big blue eyes
eyes you can get lost in
He will have perfect skin
not a blemish in sight
She will have agile delicate limbs
but don't be fooled they can snap you in two
He will tell you stories
some of which are true
She will wisper sweet nothings
the ones you long to hear
Wispers caught on the wind
He can keep you quiet
and you will feel like
She will never
let you go
He will
promise things but
She won't
keep them
They look like you and me
but there are hidden powers within
He may say
something and
She may agree
but only if it serves their purpose
They will leave you to fight
the mist that surrounds you

choking you in your own fears

They will leave you like a leaf falling
from a tree in autumn
He will captureyour heart
become the long lost brother
She will tell you secrets
become the sister you never had
This is why they are so powerful
not with witchcraft
sorcery
or other magical things. All
He has to do is
smile that sparkeling smirk and you will do what he bids
She just has to pout
you'll come running. running to do what she wants
They have the power to
make you hate them
but it only makes you love them more
They have the power to destroy you when
you are unarmed
He with his
charm and witt
She with her
grace and beauty
Never underestimate the power
of a best friend
when you do
you will be torn apart
piece by piece
they will break your heart and leave you

Alone

            Friendless

                             Heartless

                                                Cold

Best Friends Forever
Never Again

I learned from experience that our parents lied when they said monsters weren't real... Because humans are the real monsters.
Yes us.
You.
Me.
Her.
Him.
They don't live under the bed they live in the real world where there really isn't no where to hide. I believe that humans are our own demons, and all together they are the most scarriest things on earth. Because why do people get killed? who gets *****? Who suffers? Who bullys? Who yells? Who causes pain? Anger? Fear? Abuse? …and caused by who you may ask?
Just another human I shall reply.

I meant the
Well, what did I mean?
I wanna say
climbing, hanging from the harness
But was that really all that scary?
No.
That, that was.
Without a rope
or companion.
But even that, I hesitate to dub "the scarriest moment"

What was, then?
So many times come to mind.
But they weren't frightening because of my height
the expanse of air between me and the flat ground
But the depth
The lowliness of it all.
That's when I truly scared myself
Scared her too
And him, the old friend who TELLS ME TO WRITE.
But not him.
No, he was on a mission.
A mission to be numb.
Numb from true feeling.
But then there were those times when
I know he felt
knew he felt
that sky-opening
light-flooding
sparkle-sprinkling
"Ah"
awe
love
I cannot think otherwise
I cannot doubt it
That would send me into a frenzy
Why?
Because I'm still her
I am that same girl
A string of memories, L asked?
More than that, I insisted.
Then what, B inquired?
Something that lasts
The soul
Soul? ... L, again.
Yeah!
So the solution to the problem is another problem.
I can't deny those moments
That would mean denying myself
My soul
Wilde teaches.
And so I don't
But maybe I travel too far
in the other direction
Maybe I'm not quite as 'same' as I purport myself to be
But I can't let that drive nonetheless
work to impede
the work I must accomplish
stifling it,
that is what I ought to do
in this case.
because otherwise
I find myself
lingering on those thoughts
and clinging to the sheets
It's not even about that infantile comfort anymore.
Well, maybe a little
But no, the thoughts are too prevalent now
They weren't back then
I mean they weren't
They be'd not
So my adhesion to
these same old sabanas
Is sourced in
different stuff now
Before it was more mist
but now it's true fluff
thicker than that though
like real cotton more than the candy kind
So the battle's tougher now
'sall
Not one I must cease to fight
But rather I must struggle
That much more
That much harder
Because the knowledge won't stop flowing in
Incessant, unstoppable
Unless I decide to end it all.
But even then, maybe it'd keep
striking me in the face
And if not,
who would want to lose it anyway?