Monstrous

To fall apart,
with the fear,
of a loss that may never come,
that may never be felt,
or heard,
or ever truly known,
to quiver at the words,
and cry at the thought,
to slip away silently,
rather than scream to be heard,
is what it means,
to open your heart,
though love is not ugly,
people are,
we take the beauty,
and use to oppress those we fear,
and hide our own,
as we fear it will be used against us.
There is no mystery,
no great question,
or wondering behind it,
behind why people,
of all ages,
and gender,
and colour,
and variety,
bond together,
and fall apart,
over one small thing,
that seems to bind the world into one constant battle.
The wind is the result,
of the moon pulling at the earth,
to be closer together,
the rain is the result,
of water trying to get back to the ground,
all things around us are fuelled by love,
and yet in our ignorance as people,
we use as a weapon against our enemy,
'give up or you will lose your family',
that is how I see us,
monsters.
We make everything Monstrous.

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