Poem 16

There is a monster inside me.
It isn't always bad. It is there in the ache of a chest tired from laughter. It seems that the monster and I are one in the same. It is a monster that's only crime is providing me with the painful truth.
It isn't a monster, at least not in a traditional sense, it provides me with company, it is only labeled as a monster when the company hurts to much.

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