The Wrong Monster

Warning: This poem is NOT for the faint of heart. I am sorry that my poetry is all dark and gritty and sometimes bordering on horror, but for some reason, poetry seems to bring out some previously unseen dark side of me *shrugs*

Anyway, for those who are brave enough to read this – I am perfectly fine, this is NOT about me….so, enjoy…if you dare 😉


I wake up in the morning

And all I can see

Is the blood that’s surrounding, drowning me

Cause you wouldn’t heed my warning

 

You said I couldn’t hurt you

But the shreds of flesh underneath my fingernails

Speak volumes about what I do

What you denied, passed off as a mere tale

 

I tried to run

I tried to hide

To protect you from the beast inside

But somehow you would come

 

You would find me

Corner me

Beg me to see

That you could help me…

…I just had to believe

 

Believe me, dear, you better run, run, run

As fast as you can, as high as the sun

Cause it’s the only way you can escape, the only way to be safe

From the terror I become, from the monster lurking in my mental space

 

You say there’s good

I say there’s only blackness

Turn around, you say I could

But I’m too far gone in the darkness

 

Believe me, dear, you better run, run, run

As fast as you can, as high as the sun

Cause it’s the only way you can escape, the only way to be safe

From the terror I become, from the monster lurking in my mental space

 

There’s death in my wake

Only terror and slaughter

So for your sake

Leave as I give no quarter

 

Don’t tell me that there’s good

Don’t break me down

Don’t steal my heart

Don’t make me sound

 

Just run, run, run

As fast as you can, as high as the sun

Cause the monster is chafing at the chains, the timer’s ticking down

And you’re about to be caught in the blast

 

You told me that you weren’t scared by what was inside

That all would be fine

You were scared of the monsters on TV

When you were scared of the wrong monsters – and should’ve been scared of me

 

But your broke me down

Stole me with your words

Let me think that there was hope

That I could be sound

 

But as I wake

I’m met by a sight that only confirms they were lies

Your pitiful cries

As your life I take

 

Your still beating heart in my palm

Looking down at you in horror, trying to be calm

With your dying breath, you tell me a lie that is ill-concieved

That in me, you still believe


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All novels and short stories on this blog are the works of @rue202 and Racheal’s Novels Unauthorised use and/or duplication of this material without the express and written permission of the author is strictly not allowed. You may use excerpts and links or reblogs of this material provided that complete and clear credit is given to rue202 and Racheal’s Novels with clear directions to the original content.

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