Beast Poem by Sophia White

It lurks.
It drools on the threshold of my mind –
Nameless, heartless beast,
Waiting, ever waiting, for me to take one – step – out.
Then, oh then it shall leap
High into the air and land, claws first, on my head.

I watch a cat wait by a hole in the ground.
It does not move save for the flick of its long, thin tail.
The foolish mole emerges
Pounce!
Its silly spine snapped between fangs!
I shiver and wrap a fringed afghan tighter around my back.

I hear it, the quiet drops of spittle on the threshold of my mind.
Each dropp hisses, “Come out, come out, I know you’re in there.”
I close my eyes tighter – little good.
It is, after all, my mind, which lies just behind and a bit above
The eyes.

Oh, the chilling trap I have laid for myself!
The rawest and everlasting freedom is here, inside,
But something hovering around the core of my mind – or my soul? –
Wants so desperately to be devoured,
And I fear
I may not control that urge for long.

The beast does offer a tempting alternative
To freedom, life, love, and hope:
“Exchange it, ” it bids me, “for a brilliant light
For a treasure chest
For a name on one of those columns you yourself have written of.”
Oh! The bitter gray areas!

In the day, I am in a great crowd, and with so many witnesses surrounding me,
I dare not let my mind wander.
I must focus, on warmth and love and servitude,
(But at night!) No one is there, and my mind, a rebellious rover,
Dreams of the beast and his offer.

No! I must not let myself wander.
(How cruel I must appear, to jerk my own consciousness about on this leash.)
Animalistic, I tell myself with disgust.
Craving worldliness… fame and fortune… a name on a column wrapped in vines…
Again I wander. Hopeless, hopeless.... hopeless…..