If I was a zombie,

You'd like to stay away.

My peeling skin,

My colorless eyes,

My scarred, grotesque face,

It would keep you at bay;

You would not love me.


If I was a vampire,

You'd think I'd lost my mind.

That I'd committed my life

To some strange cult.

If you believed me, though,

You'd be terrified I'd kill you,

Whether on purpose

Or by mistake. Either way,

You would not love me.


If I was a werewolf,

You'd avoid me whenever

The moon was full.

Your heart would pound as soon

As my body became enshrouded

In a thick layer of fur.

You would not love me.


If I was a ghost,

My presence would startle you,

Make you scream in terror.

You'd call up Zak Bagans

And make him try to get rid of me.

No matter how hard I tried to talk,

You would not love me.


But, if I was me,

In all of my obsessive, insane glory,

You'd be creeped out.

My constant rantings,

My obsession with the fantastic,

Imaginary world that has made

Its home in my brain,

You'd not want to love.

You would not love me.