My Monster

I have become skilled at kindness
Of soft words and gentle delivery
I have learned how to hide my darkness
I have learned to point my rage inwards
To protect others from myself
I have the scars to prove it
Self punishing and self denying
Diluted and faded from self restraint
I miss the cloak of vicious responses
Of my fist meeting the flesh of my enemy
But no one loves violence or wildness
Correction and guidance, the mental act
Of declawing my darkness over and over
I have a pile of fangs and claws inside
A swirling and swarming mess of bitterness
Of constantly being told I'm too much
That this pale faded version of myself is still
Is still too much for some of the people here
People I care about but don't want me
Not the pure straight from the vein me
I'm not all laughter and arts and crafts
I am rage, a bittersweet survivor of violence
People fucking forget what survivors must do
I am done playing games with softness
Softness didn't get me to this point
It's the monster inside my chest that
Saved me from my very human demons
And you don't get to muzzle them
Just because you don't understand them.