Masked Hunger

Predators don't always come with teeth,

Sometimes they wear your face-

Smiling, folding into your circle

Like a secret whispered over dinner,

Like laughter that lingers too long.

They sit beside you,

Quiet as shadows stretched thin,

Eyes glinting behind practiced masks,

The kind that says "family,"

But hold the hunger of wild things

Hidden deep beneath soft words.

Their claws are veiled in kindness,

Their teeth, the words unsaid,

The promises cracked and leaking poison

Into your wine glass,

Sipped beneath chandeliers

Where trust should bloom.

You feel the weight of their gaze,

A silent feast prepared without sound,

A slow unraveling you can't resist,

Because they call you "home"

And fold you in

With hands that pinch too tight

To ever truly let go.

Beware the Predator who dines with you,

Who whispers lullabies

While sharpening knives behind smiles-

For hunger masked in love

Is the most dangerous bite of all.