so I have dragged the beast into the light
but am still too afraid to open my eyes
to face what manner of creature stalks me;
when it lurked in the shadows I could pretend it was harmless
all bark and no bite, my imagination run wild;
after all, it was only once Little Red grew suspicious
that the wolf gobbled her up;
if she had befriended the beast and called it Granny
would they be living in the cottage still?

I am trying to resist the urge
to let my beast slink back into the closet;
I am trying to teach it to heel
and walk around the block