Poetry

The words I write

Are from my darkest thoughts

They are the feelings that grow

And refuse to rot.

They are my deepest wants

And my darkest desires

My private needs

And what my hatred devours.

They haunt me at night

And stalk me by day

They follow me home

Even on the brightest of days.

They are my hidden monsters

In the darkness of night

They dwindle during day

And grow all night.