Mommy Monster

She says I’m the monster,

mommy monster.

But my teeth aren’t sharp

and my mouth is so small.

Small enough to eat small children.

No, that’s not how this works.

Somehow I’m still mommy monster.

Or James. Or sometimes daddy when you’re tired of going between worlds.

Call me anything you want.

If it’s you, I don’t mind.

Somehow you have all my heart.

Even the parts that leak out through my eyes.