Hiding in Silence

Days are mix with uncertainly; never knowing if I should leave this basement underneath my bed. Not worthy in my eyes as twin of me stares right back. With so much hate and pain I only see the monster. Yet there are times; I think there might be more. I have strange flows within my blood of a weird source. Flows of positive voices, warmth, and passion. These flows make my inners go insane. I try to ride this dragon of a new era; yet the evil within is struggling to let go. It struggles to let go of the pain, sorrow, and madness as if it fuels itself. Every day seems to be war; a game of tic-tac-toe forever. Never losing and never winning always seems either cat or I have the upper hand. One day things might change, might is a somewhat word; but a word of no other. Might is a chance to actually come out unless the fears keeps me under. Either way the mix of me will so smooth out as I continue to live as a monster. My green skin and red eyes will glow into more... As Mr. Poe claims "And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting. On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming, And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor; And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
            Shall be lifted—nevermore!"