The Monsters Under My Bed

“You light my dark mind with the gift of the never ending knowledge about the universe. Your voice sounds like a symphony orchestrated in heaven. You light my heart on fire with your warmth.

But you do not please me, visually. You’re not pretty.”

“Never have I seen someone so lost in their skin before. Never, until now.”

“I don’t have time for this.” (Time for drama, or time for me? Is there really a difference?)

“That day we sat together in silence, and we each had an ending in mind. The same one. But we had no way to accept the truth. Our desires and our reality collided in such a manner that it took away all doubts of things ever going back to what they were.”

“Crimson stains on your pale skin worry me. You’re not a poem, not art. You’re damaged, R.

Rather, you’re just collateral damage. You are a collateral damage of the wars your mother fought for her lands, and the ones your father fought for his people.”

“This is an uphill battle. And you have sore knees.”

“You don’t need a weapon, when you’re born as one.”



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