every day repeats itself like a book on the shelf that i keep rereading yearning for an answer to my undying desire the more i reach the more i end up bleeding if i stain your hands red, would it make you want them instead? i don’t want to see you leaving my bones are broken and sharp as i try to heal they only do harm why are you already grieving? i bandage myself up i drink again from that cup through the forest i wander you follow me there and because you still care, i tell you what i ponder your face drops as i see your heart shatter i can’t breathe anymore, and my words just scatter. when does a man become a monster?