she is frightened.
i can smell it.
she fears us.
and that is wise.
she fears me.
i hate myself for it.
ebony hair and blue eyes.
red cheeks and trembling arms.
the hunger gnaws at me.
but not just for food.
❄️
YOU ARE READING
Prince of Wolves
Short Storyi hear them howl, for them. for me. for flesh. for blood. and i wonder, i wonder if i'm supposed to feel so empty, so cold. ❄️ #674 in short story - july/august 2017 #216 in my youth - august 2018 -completed
