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The Monster
Every night,
I sit in fright,
the dark,
it closes in,
the monster calls,
but I refuse,
to slip back to the arms,
of the monster,
its the thing,
that makes me,
who I am today,
the monster sits,
upon the shelf
above my head,
he whispers to me,
just a little,
just a bit,
come on,
just give in.
no,
I say,
not again,
I won't do it,
I won't listen,
but his voice is lilting,
a sweet melody against my mind,
I close my eyes against the throbbing pain,
and wish it’d go away,
maybe he’s right,
a little won't hurt…
But then,
won't I be weak,
if I give in?
my body gives a violent shake,
I’m cold,
so cold,
the monster says,
he’ll warm me,
but no,
I won't do it,
not again.
I’ll let him sit there,
forever,
if he wishes,
but I won't give in,
I won't let him dance with me again,
He is evil,
unforgiving,
he takes control,
and won't let go,
but I will try,
try to escape,
from the clutches,
of the monster.
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This article has 2 comments.
In this piece, the Monster can be interpretted many ways, maybe its addiction, the urge to do drugs, or to cut yourself, or any other way really. but this poem shows you cannot let the monster take control and live your life, tis your life take control of it.