An Inner Voice

 

My inner voice is  

claustrophobic. 

Scratching and clawing 

at the sides of my skull, 

Mewing like a wild cat, 

stuck in a cage at a City 

Zoo.  

Pacing back and forth 

behind the black iron bars, 

stared at the fat onlookers, 

chomping on popcorn and 

corn dogs or other corn related 

food items, pointing and 

gawking at my bristled fur. 

My inner voice, wishing for 

wildness, untempered freedom 

and a little spot in the sun 

to roar and run, to chase and 

be chased, to smell the wonders 

of each blade of grass and pee 

anywhere.  

A stir-crazy inner voice, 

kept caged as the muckity-mucks 

wander about in the haze of  

unearned self-righteousness,  

with Strawberry Ice Cream dripping 

from their over fed mouths onto  

their smugly inappropriate tee-shirts. 

An inner voice, wanting to pounce, 

scream and slaughter, 

shout and slay; 

sharpened by a prolonged 

solitude. Claws longing 

to tear and thrash, rip and slice, 

through the numbskullery.  

A loud inner voice, yet, untoothed and 

declawed by social fragilities.  

Pining for lust, love, passion, good sense, 

virtue, and acceptance outside of a cage, 

outside of convention, inside the hearts 

of the willing, the able, the understanding.   

But finding none.  

  

An inner voice, still stalking 

back and forth in the bone  

cell, snapping and snarling, 

but quite contained, not to 

be unleashed per the rules 

of social convention. As per 

the dignified rules of behavior.  

An outer voice; a zookeeper of 

sorts, managing to secure the locks 

of the more lecherous and salacious, 

unbridled cynicism and passions of the wild ego, 

keeping the onlookers and muckity-mucks 

in their relative security of blissful 

ignorance.     

My inner voice, staring out, panting, 

licking his lips; waiting…