MONSTER

A Message for Readers: Not everyone is blessed with parents who are good people. The trauma of being raised by guardians who do not have an understanding of right and wrong, and choose to lose themselves into bad habits, stays with the children forever. But even more than that is the terror of turning into your parents, to become the same person you grew up hating. This poem addresses that fear. It is a very real feeling, something I experience myself. I hope you know you are not alone, and you have the chance to not become like them. You know better. 

(Picture from Pexels)

I stare at my ring-studded fingers

Stubby, bent, with rounded ends,

Identical to those that caressed my

Head when I couldn't count on them.

My nose, narrow yet oddly crooked,

Dotted with the bright red freckles

I counted and marveled at,

Before falling asleep in your arms.

The auburn curls that shimmer down

Broad shoulders of a steady frame;

Hidden away are knots of frustration

That you grabbed at, at your low.

And perhaps I could try to escape,

The physical similarities between

You and I, cruel mirror images, 

If I closed my eyes, trying to forget.

But what of the blinding anger,

That explodes and destroys

Everything I treasure and love,

The way yours ruined me?

In the fever dream, I hold a whiskey bottle

Trembling as I swing and gulp it down

My cheeks glowing red, with warning

Of what I might do after, inhibition-less.

Surrounded by the same loneliness

That dined at our house each day

Consequence of causing pain to others,

A poor attempt at self-preservation.

Every moment I am consciously aware of,

The glaring reality of who I really am,

My fear grows, gnawing at my insides:

I may end up like you, without distinction.

I could forgive you for everything, except

The sin of choosing to create me,

Only to turn me into a monster,

Will brand you guilty far beyond death.