Poem / vent I think. More or less a poem.
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He stares at me
At my lips
Like he wants a taste of my rose water
My honey
And I stand back, tensed.
But somehow I’m numb again
I feel a force, breathe against my neck
Could it be him again? Luring me
You’re only what you make
I made a monster
You’re only a monster
Monsters I make always
And break I do too
Because I am the monster I made
I’m numb yet powerful
Taste my sweet honey dew sugar
And tell me, for what does it please you?
Are you broken like the souls, damned to your repulsion?
Or are you a bond of glue, suffocating in the air tight seal you once drained the life from
