I grew up with a monster

I would give and she would take.

She was noisy and demanding

So I silenced her with cake.

I kept my monster quiet

Well fed behind the door

But her appetite grew stronger

She always wanted more.

I tried to starve her many times

A siege- no bold attack

But her desperation pierced me

Her wails would bring me back.

So we limped along together

My monster and me-

She was the weight I carried

The self I could not free.

And I hated her, I hated her

I railed and I raged

With anger as exhausting

As any war that’s waged.

I tried to cut the part that eats

‘Off with her head!’

See if it bleeds.

But each attempt felt like a curse

The knife went deep, the pain grew worse.

This damage I inflicted

With careful butchery.

Oh! I wish I could have loved-

The monster in me.

 

By Fiona Lochhead Aug 17

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