I've always known my claws were unsightly.
I scratch everything I touch. I can't help but hold too tight to everything, leaving garish gashes behind me like a killer's blood trail.
I do not know how to be soft. I bite and scratch and howl, because that is all I have ever known.
I scratch at your door. Let me in.
Why do you hate the way I love?
My hands hurt. I cannot walk. Is this the price I must pay for love? How do I love you now? I am no longer a beast. But I will never forget how you looked at me.
I have been a very bad dog.