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MonsterI am locked within a prison that is
not an easy escape, for you or I.
My soul is left with plenty of bruises,
and my mind is demented from umpteen lies.
Across my skin; outlines of thin, red cuts.
I am suicidal, I cry in depression.
But, I gain a feeling to see loose guts.
The way that I am, it's not an obsession.
The fear of thyself, is horribly vivid.
From my dreams, I am the unnerving killer.
All of these thoughts make me feel uncomfortably livid.
I hate this monster, but I cannot end her.
I twitch, and I cry, and I laugh in pain
But even with such agony, I won't die with vain.
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