Feeding Time

Alone with my scars.
Thoughts provoke the tiger caged inside
with a taste for the dark side of desire.
A desire that is fed with the self doubting notions
and self indulged emotions.
Starving.
Forever starving.
Unsatisfied,
even with the time spent dwelling on things I cant change.
I run
but cant hide.
The darkness that's inside
pulls me from my sheets and coaxes me to play
with fears I lay to rest during the day.
Scars pave a nostalgic road.
One I dare not wander alone.
Creatures that bump back in the night
shed light on the walls I keep out of sight.
For what they don't know I've memorized.
Walls built sturdy to keep me from the outside.
What was stolen wasn't forgotten.
The tiger tells me to fight fire with fire
but the dark side of desire is a losing game
of which I retire before I begin.
To be meek is far from weak
and that is the direction I've chosen to seek.
So the tiger longs for more.
Starving.
Forever starving.
unsatisfied with the time I feed him to keep his claws at bay.