The Lion Inside Of My Stomach

Have you ever felt like there's just a living breathing animal inside of you that wants to come out but it's too weak and too scared?

The Lion Inside Of My Stomach

There's a lion inside my stomach.

He's been there for quite a while now.

He growls whenever he's hungry

and sleeps when he is full,

but he's growing older now

and I can't control him like I used to.

He's like a child but worse.

He doesn't know right from wrong.

He doesn't do what I tell him

and he doesn't want to leave.

He's comfortable in there,

all tucked up where he's hidden safe

from the dangers of the outside,

but he's a vicious predator.

He doesn't know that just yet.

He's still too young despite his mane.

I can feel him move sometimes,

curling up or tossing over in his sleep,

but I know he's not really there.

He's not a child that I will ever birth.

He's just a child inside of me

who will never taste the petrichor

or feel the sun on his eyelids

or see the snow drift from the heavens.

He's just a child that awakens

to stir a roar that fills my heavy skull.

When he sleeps, I am happy

and for a moment, my chest unclenches.

I will never be free of the lion

for he has found a home in my flesh lining,

but I will cradle him and smile,

for this child I call a lion is ill and weak.

His roars are but simply a cry.

Author's Note

I realized that I haven't written a piece on here in a while. This is actually a piece that I used for the Young Writers Project since I didn't have the time to write a whole new poem, but I really like it a lot. It really shows what goes on in my brain in the simplest way I can put it. Plus, I have a love for animals (: