Was I truly a monster?
Having to beg for love crumbs
is ugly
I am not a villain anymore
I don’t steal scraps
And I don’t blame you
For reanimating my heart
When I lay as a corpse on the table
My virgin lips begging for it
Stitched to a rotting head
Jolted to life by your lightning touch
Addicted, attached to your light
Poisoned, angry when left in the dark
The literature you wrote warned others
Stay away from the beast
Science went wrong with this one
So alone I wait
for my doctor to return
with a cure
Not knowing
he got lost along the way
Following lamp light into the marsh
and voices into the mist:
Don’t go home. Play with us.
Is your happiness a monster?
Did you find your truth?
The Halfwit Writer 