I had a dream that she stopped loving me.
The sky was pretty when she sent me away,
not a tear from the clouds, who were braver than I,
but I left an ocean on her shoulder,
my claws deep in the flesh of her palm as they pulled me from her and down into the abyss.
I didn’t mean to be a monster.
I spent so long keeping myself at bay,
but the truth is full of terror, and it tears it’s way out of well meaning skin eventually,
and then, you become a monster.
It’s not her fault.
Nobody wants to have a monster as a daughter,
but she does,
and now I dream about her looking at me as I do.
I wake in tears,
wondering if she lies when she says that she loves me as I am.
It was just a dream.
It was just a dream,
but a monster still stares back from the mirror.