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The Beast
My mother gave it to me in a box.
She told me never to open it.
I was a good girl: I took it deep within myself and never even peeked inside.
Then love came and abandoned me.
It wrenched into a cruel hatred that obscured my perception in a thick haze.
Together, the Love and Hate created Guilt.
The box casually floated to the surface.
I couldn't feel IT.
I didn’t even notice IT was there.
Over-rated Perfection came and twisted up my morals and bliss into a crisp, unbreakable knot of stress.
The box unlocked.
WHO I AM materialized by my feet and let me taste him.
His sensation awakened Rebellion and the realization that blatantly following orders was treasonous and could be subtly avoided.
guerrillala war raged between Rebellion and Perfection.
The box innocently popped open with a soundless rasp.
As the war dragged on, IT slowly oozed out.
At first I felt IT in minuscule waves: easily overcome.
Then, I found a Best Friend.
She was so extremely similar to me that she scared IT.
So much so IT was almost forgotten.
Almost.
Anime was found and a fiery passion ignited, driving IT away further into the deepest, most treacherous pits of my soul.
My parents told me theaccepted the decreasing of my once-perfect grades.
They grounded me a week later because of missing assignments and those wretched dropped grades.
IT scares me.
Frigid, cloudy confusion is a mask IT wears to get closer to me.
When I see IT’s hands coming closer to me, I want to run far away.
I know IT cannot be hurt by physical attacks, and I know IT is inside me so I can never truly run away.
I wear a faux mask of Happiness to try and hide IT.
I’m so afraid. Can anyone help me?
It won’t be long now before IT consumes me.
I can feel ITs hands and breath along my neck.
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