The Wild Creature You Keep In Cold-Store Poem by Mark Heathcote

Howling from the outside looking in
I am the beast you won't let in.
I am the animal you can't ignore
I am the wild creature you keep in cold-store.

The thing you cannot tame or groom
goes padding around your nursery room
goes padding hungry beneath a blood-red moon
it's an intuitive shadow following behind you.
... Banging closed the door—you,
you intuitively barred opened only to run away.

But this monster has your best interests at heart.
But you just-keep running away,
instead of being fearless-
you just run away.

Listening to the storm that would not stop or stay,
the desire you baited like it was, only child's play.
'Roared' ever louder to be heard,
tears of pain and hunger deferred.

Howling from the outside looking in
the beast you won't let in.
The animal you can't ignore
the wild creature you keep in cold-store.

The things you tamed inside, groomed.
Now wants to live, breathe and be-exhumed.
And live inside.
'Roared' and let the world know it isn't dead, it's still alive.