My Very Own Monster

My monster is ugly, my monster is red,
My monster is hungry and needs to be fed.
He seduces and lures and flashes his eyes,
In pursuit of his prey, he believes his own lies,
That people will like him, if he treats them like food,
That eating them slowly will make him feel good.

My monster is red, my monster is needy,
Self-centred, self-serving, insatiably greedy.
He needs to be special and craves for attention,
He lusts for excitement and longs for sensation.
He wants to be bigger and better than all,
Yet feels so transparent, empty and small.

My monster is wounded, my monster is red,
Flayed raw and throbbing, oozing with blood.
Sick of the fight yet unable to score,
They punch him again and he comes back for more.
So he covers his face and pretends to be fine,
Incensed by injustice, this monster is mine.