I Hunt in the Night

I don’t think that I was always a monster.

But when I was, I was terrifying.

I pity anyone who ran in my path,

For they were devoured.

I felt the blood on my lips, my hands, and smiled every time.

Alone, ever alone.

I ran my tongue across my teeth and howled.

I barked to claim my animal

And cornered the meek and weak

I paced around them, licked myself to confuse them.

Who is this monster who pretends to wear sheep’s wool, sheep she had freshly murdered?

It is I, the killer of all that is noble and good and caring and foolish enough to ever love me and trust me.

It is I, a wolf in sheep’s clothing.