Before it finds a way to emerge again

I'm just sitting here. I know I'm going to be tired in the morning if I don't go to sleep, and yet I don't want to curl up inside those sheets all alone.

I don't feel passive now. I feel aggressive. I feel hungry and thirsty and desperate. Part of me wants to claw at something, someone. Part of me wants desperately to break free, part of me wants something so deeply that I can't express what it is. The violent part of me is still there, as it always was. That darkness still creeps into my head, and sometimes I feel nearly overwhelmed. I hide it though. I hide it often behind this mask of lightness, behind the mask of utter complacency.

You satisfy that hunger. I can close my eyes and feel the burning crush of your mouth against mine. I can recall how we moved together in the darkness, and then I crave it even more. I crave the heat of your body, the balance that we share. I find myself longing for that passion more and more. I find myself lost inside a hurricane in my head, gnawing at the walls, and looking for things to destroy, simply because I can.

I don't know that anyone will ever be able to save me, or satisfy the creature inside. It can only be calmed, soothed, for brief periods, before it finds a way to emerge again.