Hedonistic desire.
A lamb to the slaughter.
You speak and all we hear are ritual curses.
A birthright you inherited from your father.
Speaking in tongues.
Licking up flames.
Wearing the face of a wolf. All sharp teeth and bloody claws.
Howling at an empty night sky.
Soft wool and soft throat.
Shaking limbs.
A pack or a herd, of which you belong to neither.
Which face is yours? Do you even have one?
Is it just your fathers?
His canines. His claws. His echoing howl.
A creature you wish you knew how to bury.
A mere sheep in wolfs clothing.
All shaking limbs and blood stained fleece.
Your method of survival is killing you,
and it's killing me too...
YOU ARE READING
The diary of Seth Alexander
Saggisticaas the title suggests, this is legit going to be my diary. and yes, most diaries are supposed to be secret, but I have always been an open book. I like to pretend to be mysterious, but the people around me will all tell you that I am am someone who...
