Quiet and reserved,
They assume that I'm made of
Ice and rain.
Little do they know
There is fire inside of me.

Flames rushing from my heart,
Nearly bursting from my fingertips.
It's quick and searing; a wolf,
Made of smoke and white hot ash.
I see everything.
I feel too much, too deeply.

Emotions are amplified.
Pain. Joy. Sorrow. Anger. Fear.
They linger, feeding the ardent creature,
Filling him with what he needs to
Protect me.
Each one is distinct in the impact
They have on the beast inside.

The wolf howls, cries out,
Longing to be shown to the world.
I keep him hidden only in the
Desire to protect that part of myself.
Because should something happen
To that wolf, that fiery beast,
I would be lost.

So I will silently rage,
Burning, smoldering in my chest.
My mask will be calm
While my eyes show the fire,
The snarling wolf,
Only to those who take the
Time to notice