Another attempt at this: Begining to Poem #2

(Alright, that last piece only got one bit of advice ( which I appreciate, THANK YOU STRANGE!!) and I'm assuming its because it was a sappy 'love' poem. Or because you're all scurd. I will mess with it later I suppose...

Anyway, that genre of poetry becomes a broken record after a while. So this is something I was playing with in my head earlier, and I know theres transitions/metaphors/ alot of shit I need HELP with so dont leave me hanging on this one! I want this polished up!! WORKSHOP MY PIECE FOR ME!! be my class room.)


-No title yet-

When I was younger,
my parents had to leave lights on when I slept.
I had night lights and closet lights and hall lights
to keep me from believing that dreaded
oh so perverted monster was going to pop out of his
tiny concealed hiding spot and eat
my
fucking head off.
Somehow the lights kept him away,
kept me hiding under a lit safe zone so that when my eyes shut
I would be able to go off into my imagination and fight him off.

See I thought I was a super hero. I wore
the Flash and Batman onesie pajamas to bed and refused
to take them off the next day because
who else was going to take care of all the bad guys.
I thought I had super powers. Thought I could save
my GI Joes from my stuffed animals and could battle
off any other enemy.
But when monsters became cancer
and night lights turned to hospital florescence
there was no place for me to feel safe.
To feel guarded from the evils that
I was too young to understand or believe in.

I started to fall into that darkness.
began sleeping under my blankets and hiding behind
scowls hoping that no one would be able
to see all the damage
that enemy had done to me.
But I was wrong. I had
taken off my cape and replaced it with
the face of a bad guy.
My stare told the story of war victims
of video taped Christmas mornings and
chemotherapy.
A wound that bled through my 9 year old life
and no one expected me to be able
cope with it.

But I blamed myself. Thought that
maybe I wasn't smart enough or maybe I wasn't
funny enough or I wasn't
enough of a super hero to fight off any real enemies.
I felt my insides roll over on themselves,
felt them twist my perception of my reflection into
hatred and self destruction.
I became
a monster.
I wore bad attempts with razor blades and thought
I deserved to try harder.
Thought that no one would treat me better than I treat myself
so I let go of my dreams
escaped into ideas that
I was nothing and I wouldn't amount to anything and
I should do everything I can
to let people see me
the way I see myself.

So I robbed my friends of a real friendship,
stole their parents belongings and sold them for drugs
when they trusted me.
When they thought that I would fight with them and
not against them
I became
what I was afraid of all along.
And when I realized who I had become,
and what I had really done,

there was no place for me to hide.
No safe zone to go back to
and no super powers to fight back with


See I am a monster.
I am swelling with self destruction and
razor blades.
I've fucked up alot of friendships,
I have shattered my own potential
for the sake of feeling bad for myself and
I've given up on who I am but

god damnit I am beautiful.
Even if I have hated myself for things I cant control,
even if I can't see myself the way others see me,
even if I still sleep with the lights on
and hope that tomorrow I will wake up and be able to put up
a real fight

I am
a beautiful
monster.