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Friday, July 14, 2006

My monster

The day before I died
I was sitting in my room
waiting for the monster
to tell me to play
I knew he'd be coming
he said he'd be back
the last time he told me
I'd be sorry I cried
Do you believe in monsters?
The kind with no faces
the kind from the movies
with blood on their hands
those monsters aren't real
they're costumes and make-up
those monsters I laugh at
my monster I fear
My monster has a face
two eyes, nose, and a mouth
with my pureness on his hands
this monster is real
he's tall, dark, and heartless
some people even sayI act something like him
I should, I'm his baby sister
The day after I died
my monster still visits
his puppet I am
he pulls all my strings
my tears are now frozen
I stare at the ceiling
wait for the morning
to pretend to love life


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