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I am not a beast.

No savage clawing for its next meal.

No cold-hearted demon that never learned what love means.

I want what any of you want:

to be held,

to be told I am loved,

to sleep beside someone and not be afraid.

---

But something happens to a man,

left out too long,

pushed out the door,

left alone,

abandoned to fight an isolation,

that drags him down into something broken.

---

It isn’t the claws that make a beast.

It’s the cold heart of you,

leaving me behind.

That is what woke it,

a thing that gave up,

emotion,

thought,

being human,

just to stop feeling.

And called that freedom,

Calling for the end.