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Cursed
It makes sense I suppose,
That monsters wouldn't be loved,
They are, after all, hideous and unworthy,
Monsters deserve to be lonely,
Sit alone on the benches of grief,
Walk in shame along the streets of love,
It makes sense, doesn't it?
That the ugly never stands with the beautiful,
Monsters are killed and slain,
That's what my parents told me,
In stories and myths and songs,
Except,
They never told me why I was a monster,
No one told me why I deserved to be alone and forsaken,
A bride abandoned at the altar,
Why did the stories never tell me,
How it felt to be a monster in a world of humans.

© Silvy Abraham