I hunt for death,

teethe bared like a wild dog
catching the scent of blood meat

I am half animal, feral
and free. Yet half human,
closed up and shy

This uncomfortable juxtaposition is full of flaws to hide in

My rage is scarlet and pulsing, like a blood vessel about to burst

But is that the wild dog in me, outhunted, or the wallflower wilting