Some monsters, are comprised of teeth and hair, bones and bubble gum.
Watching cities collapse and noticing that from afar, nothing like this will happen again (There is beauty to that) Hush.
And some live under your bed. Some in your bed.
Some live safely behind a screen (not me).
Some have voices in their heads, and they whip around, trying to answer them-- (not me) Gasping for air, pleading-- I know my demons, I have new ones, help me.
(She isn't sick. She wants drugs.)
Careful. People with voices have monsters in their chests too, stealing their breaths their breaths their breath.

Masquerading cruelty as protection

You think you will win, because we are getting tired,
And sometimes when we walk, the bones in our ankles crack,
And you push on our back but

Truth

It is not my back. It is not my bones,
But we are still burning down, and
When your bones are on fire, my spirit melts into something I can't recognize.

What is that, swirling thing, doesn't anyone care who is on rafts anymore?