I remember when all our guns were sticks
I remember when pine cones were grenades
I remember when we always got back up
And war was just a game we played

I'm the monster clawing at the walls.
You gave me the taste for your blood and then locked me in here.
Your scent stains every surface in the room;
Tantalising but with no flesh to sink my fangs into.
Rabid dog-type wildness becomes me,
Transforms me into a thing driven by madness and instinct.
You are the prey with footprints but no body.
I am the predator never knowing satiety.
Pacing replaces hunting, I'm starving,
And your constant, elusive presence has me frenzied.
Viscera begin to litter the room.
Yours or mine? I don't know. I'm starving.

waves are crashing and in them is me
flames are burning and in them is me
wind is howling and in it is me
the earth is turning and in it is me