If you were a monster
like those in the movies,
you'd have copper teeth in a jagged array.
You'd be short of stomach,
but to your advantage:
You'd chew me right up and just spit me away.
If you were a monster
like those in the books,
you'd have translucent claws of a caramel shade.
They'd hook at the ends to
forever me beckon.
To reel me in 'gain and again, they were made.
If you were a monster
like those beneath beds,
you'd have little black-holes in the place of your eyes.
They'd bleed out a pus that
infections provide and
they'd drain me of ev'ry stray thought but your lies.
If you were a monster
like those in my head,
you'd have one awful shadow cast always on me.
You'd never release me
from years in the dark
until you and your shadow are all I can see.
If you were a monster,
if you really were,
well, you'd not have blond hair or those olive green eyes.
You'd not have a siren's voice
leaving me dazed;
You'd have claws, fangs, and fur. You would leave me to die.
If you were a monster,
I'd bleed, now, not cry.
I'd be dead in a hole in the ground, not my mind.
If you are a monster,
like they say you are...
Well, I'd rather be limp in your arms than alive.
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