Raised by Wolves

it’s not your fault
your father tore a piece out of you
etching grief in your marrow
he shakes off his fur
folds it carefully in half
slowly filling the center with air
orderly conduct snaps up your spine

her weakness humbles you
don’t worry, i know you won’t tell
you just continue to sit there looking pretty
sipping on a caldron of lies
i am sorry
it cannot last forever

when you crumble
i will carry the pieces of you
in my pocket
until your tears
return you to the storm

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