The Lion
There’s a lion in my throat
braving the wilderness that
I’ve been terrified to release.
He teethes my tongue-
draining the words from the darkness
he prowls, hunting for the utterance
of a primal creature such as he.
I can feel him clawing at the yoke
of what makes me a “man”.
Growling at my fear.
Gnawing at my self-hatred.
I light fires at night-
digital gleams to keep him at bay.
Distracted.
Because I’m afraid.
Afraid of what I might say
when I let myself become as wild as he
and I both know I am.
-James Kelley 2018
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