If I were to roll over and hold you
I'd recognize the bite. It brings me
back to the wolf at my door, the one
whining and gnashing its teeth in a
constant moan. Like wind at my
door, it rattles the rafters and
tempers the glass I refill each day
with animosity and regret. You mess
with my head as I stumble against
the sun in my face, startling me into
believing there is a tomorrow. You
smile your wicked, crooked smile knowing
tomorrow is the same as today as yesterday.
Black, oily liquid snakes down my throat
one more time as I snuggle with my
comforter. My only comfort. My friend
my enemy, my demise. I roll over
and hold you as you snap my neck
in your jaws.
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