What is it?

If I were more concerned

With what it was

I wouldn't be a slave

To the chains of the laughter

The false reflection of the 

Mirror 

I care too much

For far too often

About what it does

Could do

Did

Than what it is

Perhaps that's why it eats me

Raw like an apple

Shiny and enticing

Then like the serpent

Offered to innocence

And destroyed more than humanity

What is it?

It is rather complicated 

But to me rather simple

The reason why I never worried

Or wandered what it was

Is this

It was me. 

Me growing within me

Not some demon

Some ghoul with a motive

But me

And that, dear children

Is what horror is not all about.