I see a monster
It is eating spaghetti
It is a good thing

I'm glad that it does
Not eat me or my brother
He likes spaghetti

We asked him his name
And he grumbled intensely,
"I'm Mr. Monster!"

He always came in
After a quarter past ten
And raided our fridge.

Frederiksburgville Town
Didn't usually have monsters
But they had pasta

And so the monster
Told the little children things
About from where it came

And it sang a song
That was very short and long
And it went like this:

Gobbledegook gobbledeedee
Fricasha bulungo tirimasu wings!

The children sat stunned
It was a horrible song
You can't sing along.

you were my second skin
the familiar warmth
the comforting caress
the soft sound that rang like bluebells in my ears

and now you're gone
a void of cold, bitter air
the comfort no longer lingers
your song no longer sings

all that's left is a sliver of your touch
a slight warmth encapsulated by a cold frost
it still warms my chest
i'll be okay

I feel unlike everyone else
But I know I'm not the only one walking trough hell.
I guess I; need an angel, or maybe a demon.
It really just depends which one I'm feed'en.
And I have them both standing on my shoulders. One giving me orders. The other is my soilder. And they both talking about my disorders. But I ignore them and blow them off like mortars. So I guess I need to find that shoulder to cry on, the one to rely on. I wouldn't care if she drove an ion or a scion. But she knows that I'm keeping my eye on her. But its really just a fight of surviver. But really its the insider myself the fight through hell. Is there anyone else?