You are a wolf
Surrounded by a forest full of deer
You seek out your prey, carefully
Thinking about who you could taunt the most
You play with your prey, delicately
Not all the way at first. You tease and flirt, but then full on play with their feelings
You eat your prey, angrily
You don't think. You rip their hearts out of their chests and take small bites, and put it back
You leave your prey, evily
You walk away, leave them bleeding out, calling your name in their dreams they'll never wake up from
Then,
You find new prey
And you repeat the cycle.
Over
And over
Is this your way of trying to fix yourself?
Taking pieces of deer to fit into yourself?
Making you feel full again? More, You? For just a second?
YOU ARE READING
storms and blood
Poesiathe death of which is unknown -figured out between the lines of within these pages
