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Rated: E · Poetry · Death · #2042274
Sometimes I can only hate what I've become.
I don't know what's roaming inside me
But there must be a monster within
I can feel its claws pushing against my skin
Scraping and shoving into place
The grotesque being that wants my body
Cannot see through my eyes
'Fore if he could see what I see
He surely would want to die

I don't know what's roaming inside me
But there must be a ghost within
I can feel myself turning into a puppet
A hollow figure of my former self
When the strings pull taut I move again
I know that he can't feel my actions
'Fore if he could do what I do
He surely would want to die

I don't know what's roaming inside me
But there must be a gargoyle within
I can feel its cold growl in my voice
Stone weighs my mind down
And there's nothing I can do to resist
That raspy snarl upon my face surely isn't mine
But I know that he can't tell what he's doing
'Fore if he could hear what I hear
He surely would want to die

I can only guess what's roaming inside me
And I'm starting to think that it's me
The cruelty that I display all day
Is something no other horror could create
As it is just as sickening to them as it is to me
To lash out against those that you love
And forget every last image of happiness
Surely makes me want to die
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