My friend's don't know about my monster. They think I smile brightly, and have a soul of gold. They think my laugh is genuine and that I have daily strength to continue. But they are wrong. My monster comes to me at night, when I am too weak to keep my mask on. I let him take blows at me, each punch, he gets closer to that supposedly golden soul. He'll get that treasure someday, and he'll leave me with smoke when gold used to be.












