It's just a fire and it's you again.
When do you think that a monster stops being a monster? Right when you love her. When everything you build crumbles, when everything you want suddenly isn't that far away. When all you want is one night of passion and excitement.

She told herself it would only be a fling, the sweet child would be wishing, and the pretty wife would be waiting. She told herself it was just one night. Some people just love the wrong people sometimes. But it's okay it's just one night, just another beating. Just something to discard in the morning. Just something to wake up and cry about.
Something to avoid looking at, something to keep dreaming about, something to hurt yourself for. But it's just one night. How bad could it be right?

"You are such a good girl"

How bad could it get, how could it get like this, the sweet child, the pretty wife, the vengeful harlot, that's how it always is. All the while the monster sits and watches and savors the horrific amazement full of blood and tears and hatred. What is to be done when you become the enemy of your own, what is to be expected when you were never a sweet child, nor a pretty wife?
Just how bad could it get? The pretty wife sits and waits, the pretty wife tolerates, the sweet child never retaliates, the sweet child always listens, the harlot never complains, and the harlot just accepts. Just how bad could it be? It's just a fling, you were just born from a devil, just married a demon. Just how bad could it be right?

Just how bad could you get, just how unfilial, just how unpretty, just how vengeful. Just how dirty could you get, just how could you love the monster when it's inside you? Just how could you burn the world with it? It's just a fling, it's just a monster, it's just fire, it's just you again.

"You always listen so well"
"You are such a pretty girl, your husband is so lucky"
"You are good at this"

It's just you again, it's just the monster again. She is watching as you cry yourself to sleep, she is watching as you drag yourself out of bed, she is watching as you get picked on the street again. She is watching and laughing as you crush yourself and try to swallow your organs back again.

"Have you guys heard about what happened to the Millers' house?"

"How could such a terrible thing happen? Poor Mrs Miller, a widow at such a young age."

"Oh, what a terrible life she has led, she lost her parents to the fire and now her husband too. Misfortune just seems to follow the sweet woman"

"Poor Girl, it's always the good people who suffer such tragedies"

It's just a fire, it's just a monster, it's just you again setting the fire, it's not your first time is it? Just how bad could it be right, it's just a fling, it's just the last blow, it's just unleashing, it's just flames. Bright Reds and yellows and screams as the world burns and you finally breathe.

© Annie