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Making Monsters
Your eyes are much like mine
tired reflecting little
absorbing much.
Am I the face of
what you hate?
Am I the woken demon?
...
I will wash your heels
and give you bread,
and the freedom
to be forgotten.
...
Have you found it yet?
Your dream of freedom?
No?
I seen my own reflection
fading.
In eyes much like
my own.
