Saturday, September 24, 2011

To the Wolves

I'm used to being left to the wolves.
Even when I couldn't walk, I kept trying to find you.
I don't make enemies.
The knives adorn my back.
Forgiveness is a weakness for me.
Let me rest for just a moment please.
All I need is to catch my breath.
I haven't been breathing for years
but still,
I'm not dead.
Not yet.

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