It's running through my head again

And then it's there. It's running through my head again, clawing at the walls and baying at the moon. It's howling out for blood and reaching out with claws to tear the world apart. I'm raking fingers over my skin, just to watch it peel back, just to satisfy this anger at the world, at myself, at them.

I want to slam their faces against the walls, want to let them see this hideous beast. I want to terrify them, toy with them, and then devour them. They are not worth my time, yet it would be so enjoyable to play with them like a cat does with a mouse. Pathetic and weak, they would yield to this hateful creature like the frightened children that they are.

Some days I wish I were the beast inside my head. I wish I were that sleek and beautiful predator. I want to run wild and free, uninhibited by conscience or emotions. I want to set this free on the world and watch it cringe from me, reject me as it has a millions times before because it cannot contain or understand me.

These two halves war within me, the one that soothes at her touch, that reclines and basks in her glow, the half that shoves aside the beast, and then the beast, who is pacified, only to return. This creature of shadow and silk that lies within me, begging for blood, whining as it claws at the walls within me. It tears me apart until I'm shrieking inside, just barely holding it within my skin. Even though some of me do not want to hold it, some of me, some of that other passive half, the half that is tied to morals, to emotions, to the world, some part of that half wants to let it the creature out. Some part of the gentle creature within me wants to let out the slavering beast. Some part of me does not care about what could happen afterwards, it only wants to be free of this conflict, to let the beast win so that the struggle will end.

So I'm living in terror, that some day it will.