A monster lies in wait in me,a stew of wounds and misery.But fiercer still in life and limb,the me that lies in wait in him
To call you excrement would be an insult to the product of my bowels.
We burn so hard, but we shed so little light; it makes us crazy and sad.
To you who have never died, may I say: Welcome to the world!
I don't take accusations of selling out lightly.
Flesh could not keep its glamour, nor eyes their sheen. They would go to nothing soon. But monsters are forever.