Ignoring the stranger's voices in the wood,
'Cause there is something about the voice that is familiar.
The icy tint to it, or the danger lacing it, perhaps,
Something that turns my blood to ice water.
Danger being an aphrodisiac to me,
An adrenaline junkie, the extreme the better,
The monster grins at me every time,
Until I become white, shaken, and shattered.
And in my empty scream, there lies the pain of the indifferent,
of a monster, who sold it's soul for ease, but found hell,
It can wrap itself in it's beautiful skin,
yet the rancid hide of the decaying in the abyss,
Yet, I see it regardless of it's disguise.
It advances on me,
physique hardly discernible in the shadowy twilight of the alley,
Under the gelatinous scoop, it's skin was gnarled, crumpled,
Folded like it had lost it's weight.
His teeth, eerily incandescent, emitted a strange blue glow
And were as sharp as a fine diamond sword.
For such a large beast he moved with surprising stealth,
leaving behind trails of dandruff flakes and heinous odor.
Today, I take that part of me that is broken,
I make it a ghost, falling away to nothingness.
What remains, is myself, strong and ready to move on,
I get the power to kiss goodbye, eyes forward,
For goodness's comin' my way.