My Monster

I’ve been writing poetry since I was a teen.  While cleaning out our basement recently, I came across a binder full of my old poetry.  This is one of my favourites:

My Monster

The angry hands of love envelope me in grace.

I wander not

for fear of what I cannot face.

The tendrils of hatred seem to grasp

at my weary throat;

I peel them back;

they sink deeper

like a dark and evil cloak.

Threading their way down

to my heart.


to crash through

the walls.

The barricades are breaking down;

unleashing a new terror:

My Own.

My monster.

I hate her,

I love her,

I need her,

I’ll lose her.

She scares me,

She glorifies me.

I attack her,

I appease her.

I covet her,

I liberate her.



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