The Beast

Close to my head a monster lurks. Although she seems tranquil, her sounds 

I fear. 

She's dangerous, but delicate. There's a music to her roar, a gentleness. 

Like most beings, there's more to her. Underneath 

the thick cover--skin--lies her heart.

Pumping.

Blub bum blub bum blub bum blub bum. It's melodic 

like the song of her soul. Yet, she 

is fear(ful).

She's afraid of walls

and lights 

just as she is afraid of

 freedom 

and darkness. 

Walls treat her as equal, encouraging her to find light. And for this she runs deep

into her own mind. 

Just as those who fear her, she runs--retreating. 

And it makes sense to 

retreat,

 to be where it is silent. Where loneliness has settled in the air, and everything feels

 familiar. 

Retreat. 

I understand her. 

She is an elegant beauty dressed for a ball with no one to accompany 

her. 

I am an intelligent being with no one to understand me. We are one,

 she and I.

And it seems it has always been like this. 

In some cosmic way 

we fit, 

sold separately 

but when our presences collide 

it is well.

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