There is a monster in my head,
That cannot be killed by bullets of led,
And needs always, craving, to be fed,
So be careful how close you tread,
Or you’ll find yourself
Dare I speak the truths of my heart?
Can I disclose the darkest parts?
In search of the bottom I did start,
But have yet to reach the inverse apex of my art,
In the depths my morals fly
As another brittle day dawns,
We are nothing but wooden pawns,
Despite the illusion of our bygones,
Our future is solid, set in bronze,
And death is our final
Jagged hands puncture and rip,
They wiggle and squirm for grip,
To procure a different end to this trip,
No matter how my soul may crack and chip,
And thoughts, like saliva, must
Dare I speak of the emptiness of being dead?
The monster that is my thoughts flies apart.
We are beholden to the immortal on the corner, our john.
Our existence slips through the cracks with a drip, drip, drip…
The Matticus Kingdom 
❤
Hello Monster
In my best southern accent… “I’ll think about that tomorrow” 😉
My thoughts have always been the monster in my head! They often keep me awake at night hahaha
Now this is rather deliciously dark, Mr Jester. And hey, I was thinking about you today, and missing you, so I’m glad you wrote. Also THANK YOU for all the coffees – SO appreciated. And ALSO I dreamed I was a dragon last night, and it was AWESOME! There’s a monster in all of us, non?
I’ve always wondered what would happen if I ever let that monster out of my mind… I think we all have them hiding in there. Sometimes I’m just driving down the road to work and see a jogger or squirrel in the road, and it fleetingly crosses my mind that I could just swerve… OMG. Why on earth would I ever think of something like that? Of course I never act on it. It’s just strange.
Our mental monsters are the most terrifying of all. I’d take a thousand ghouls in a horror movie.
“Jagged hands puncture and rip,
They wiggle and squirm for grip,
To procure a different end to this trip,
No matter how my soul may crack and chip,
And thoughts, like saliva, must”
Wow! This is coming up from the dead. I like it: feisty and dark. Full of life-becoming, overcoming….
That is dark, soulful, and very clever, Matticus. But that aside, give the monster in your head a good kick for me, and if he gets upset, invite him up to my place for a beer (you can come too).
Wonderfully dark, Sir Jester. I like.