the monster does not want my generosity or pity,
he seems to indulge in the mess of my absense.
the monster finds me to be a nuisance,
yet he refuses to leave me be.
the monster continues to hide behind his facade.
he has not considered my realization; i have not informed him.
i will no longer build their self-esteem...
i will crush any apparent self-worth, beauty, strength, or power they see in themselves.
foolish monster, i will devour your soul.
i used to dance in the light of your eyes,
i used to crave the touch of your skin,
i used to wander the depths of your thoughts,
i used to quiver with the mention of your name,
precious boy, precious monster.
now i hiss and claw at everything you are.
everything you stand for.
everything i thought you were...
is dead.
i am left with accepting the death of the imaginary boy.
i refuse to accept the reality that is the monster.
