Predator Tears

The predator paces n my head, caged and angry. An eerie howl- equal parts rage and pain- pounds behind my temples and pircks tears in my eyes.
The predator does not handle pain well, does not hande denial.
She does not understand human ethics, or why she cannot have what she wants when it sits before her, wafting delicious scent of arousal to her keen nose.

She does not understand, and it is the inside of my heart on which she sharpens her claws.