The Monster.

My hands

Once soft to the touch

Are a victim of your presence.

My throat

Once singing longing poetry

Is a victim of your tone.

My voice

Once soft to all with love from my heart

Is a victim of your volume.

The girl I once was

Who clung to you like a lifeline

Is a victim of your alcoholism.

Now you must face the monster

That you turned me into.

Your hands

Now tainted with my blood

Are a victim of my heart.

Your throat

Now scratchy from your volume

Is a victim of my love.

Your voice

Now hushed from the pain I showed you

Is a victim of my empathy.

Now I must face the monster

That I finally caged.

But at what expense?

I had to bleed my heart out

For you to listen.

But you didn’t.

I had to tell you how much I loved you

For you to listen.

But you didn’t.

I had to put my pain aside for you to see me

For you to listen.

But. You. Didn’t.

All of my heart.

All of my love.

All of my empathy.

It means nothing to you.

My heart won’t stop you

From acting like nothing happened.

Cause you will.

My love won’t stop you

From your angry tone making an appearance.

Cause it will.

My empathy won’t stop you

From raising your voice at me when you’re drunk.

Cause you will.

The monster you are,

The monster you were,

The monster I caged,

Would not let me say my peace.

So I had to speak

In a way 

I knew

You’d listen.

So I made my presence feared.

I made my tone angry.

I raised my voice.

I guess what I’m trying to say is

That in order to cage

The monster,

You must give in

And become the monster

Yourself.