The Monster at the End of this Book

Did you know
I’m terrified to write this all down
Like somehow I’ll just keep it around
A metaphor to leave myself out of
Did you know
I’ve strung the ropes as tight as they’ll go
Braced the floors just to keep it below
To dance myself through one more dumb show
But every page I have found
Leaves one more hasty brick wall on the ground
I lay curled up from the sound
I’m afraid of what’s at the end of the book
Did you know
My weaker faith can’t really compete
With my own skill for self deceit
The only things that dent are concrete
You wouldn’t know
That every musty corner was mine
That what I fear I simply imply
Every song was true, every word was a lie
They had it right when I was five
And I’ve got no call to be surprised
By everything I despise
But I’m afraid
I’m afraid
I’m afraid that what’s at the end of the book
Is just me