i, beast Poem, by the breaktime monologue, at My poetic side

You wear kindness like a mask—
mine was carved into me.

I was labelled with whatever you want to think of me.
Name me as you please,
call me as you want me to be,
even when I am not.

You let me wear it like a cloak of shame,
like I was being stripped naked,
like I was labelled to be a thief,
a liar,
a user.

Well, like I said,
call me as you wanted me to be.
Even then, you were never contented and satisfied.

You turned me into a monster, a beast—
you saw me as a devil.

Honey, we are alike in other ways,
perhaps? sort of.
But my attitude with yours is different.

I may be your wonderful creation,
but you never own my soul.

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i, beast