Monster

Monster What was it about me that let you see my full potential? I was nothing extraordinary, kind of nondescript really. Like the weakling on the back of comics I wanted to have those big muscles. No more sand kicked in my face. Yes I wasn’t always this magnificent monster you see before you. Your artistry started slow. Yes each painful nail hammered in one at a time. You must have trained as a surgeon. Each nail exquisitely placed. I relished your acupuncture of my brain. With each scream, I could feel my distortion, my bending. Who knew pain could be so delicious? That adrenaline coursing through my body. Bones elongated flesh twisted. I could see you enjoyed your work. You really are quite an artist. Who needs a bow flex? Those shackles provided the perfect resistance. After all I have never been stronger. I look like a Picasso strong man. Oh how the world will marvel at me. Then there are the dreams. Did you know that monsters can dream? Those razor thin slices you carved into my flesh. They helped me dream in colour. I’ve always loved the colour red. Those rusty hooks you have in me. You do know they can’t hold me? I’m waiting, yes waiting patiently for you. I’m dreaming of you, yes you, Only you. After all, you made me the monster I am today. Picture prompted poetry.