[Poem]

People are forged in fire,

and become steel.

They fight monsters as they come

Down the monsters go, one by one.

I had never gotten a blade

Even if I did, mine's couldn't be slayed.

It lives in my house

It sleeps in my bed

It mocks everything I've ever said.

It only laughs at my shouts when
I point at the door and tell it to get out.

It whispers: "We are a pack.

When we were alone, I was there, I held you; It's a fact."

I've tried to push it away,

But I've been locked in my brain.

Because I am the monster.

The monster is me.

Why, oh why can't you see?

I'm the monster; I'm far beyond help

To kill the monster, I must kill myself.

As the world burns down,

I'm too tired to feel

I was forged in the fire

But never became steel.

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Source: been depressed as long as I can remember (which is not very long, actually). At least the bitch lets me write something decent once in a while.