You will bring me plastic blue roses and I will think how I crossed the line again. I see you in my mirror. I am the bad guy, and you are not a terrible person and you don’t want to hurt me. You tell me that I like playing the victim and that I don’t deserve it. You tell me I am the monster but this is what’s become of me.
We are beasts. I feel plastic claws on my face and alligators tongues on my thighs. It is hard to love me because I became the creature from the swamp. I live in warm mud, my smell and taste has disappeared. This is my kingdom. I dream of soft sunlight and warm chocolate croissants on the terrace. I gather strength to escape the swamp. But as soon as I step outside I get burnt. Sun burns the scars on my wrinkled skin, the blood drips from my lips and then I cry.
I am a sad monster living at the bottom of the swamp who dreams to be a princess.
