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The Beast
February 22, 2018
There is a creature that
rules the skies.
Hovered over, like a
wild beast, taunting
so wild, so irritating.
Watching me. My
sluggish steps. Scorching
inside and out. Blazing hot
Skin.
Is it all worth it?
This sensation,
Perspiration
flowing like invincible tears.
I am drowning in a river
of sweat.
My cries of heat grow louder.
Shrieks grow into
Howls.
I am the real beast.
© Hannah B., Princeton, IL
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This is a metaphorical poem that i wrote in a time of duress. I personified the stress I was under at school using the "creature". At the end of the poem, the reader realizes that the "creature" or the "beast" is myself; I am the one who accepts the pain and exerts it upon myself. Therefore, I am my own beast. In essence, we are our own monsters and I think that says something about self-control and learning to control our own monsters so that we can be our best selves.