Wild Animals

We are all animals.

And are we not all wild

In our own way?

 

In the night

When we wail

The noise disguised by the

Cries of ‘animals’.

When we scream,

Our eyes wide and wild

And pretend it’s the

Birds that roost in

The ceilings.

While we tear ourselves

Apart

Because we’re bored

And it helps.

 

Are we not wild?

 

When we rip at our

Hair and faces

Drawing tears like blood

As we cry over

Our humanity

Which dictates we must

Be civilised

But drives us to ever

Wilder ends.

 

Are we not wild?

 

As we sit calm and silent

Our throats itching

To cry out in

Desperation.

Our fists clenched

Nails biting palms.

Howling on the inside

As we suffocate

In the silence.

 

 

And yes.

I growl when I’m angry.

Reviews

[EMP]

this is sooo good :O

"we rip at our hair and faces, drawing tears like blood"

imagery = perfect. rhythm = perfect. words/poem/general thing = perfect.

wild.
;)