wolves howl: a mockingbird’s denial

wolves howl
the crunch of
paws on the
icy snow
outside the
as the sky
to endless white

a lone
calls out
a three note
that folds
in on itself
into a wall
of angry static
as the pack

i am a
pitted gargoyle
perched on
the edge of
a sage couch
enveloped in
months of
silent disdain
as the fog
to obscure
the snapping
maws seeking
fresh prey

the mockingbird
and i sit
looping our own
three note refrains
an unintelligible
leading the
wolves ever closer
to a glorious
feast of foolishness

nothing remains
but half buried
corpses in
the retreating ice
death by exposure
without a sign
of frostbite
in pristine
dedication to
the vacancy of
hazy reciprocations


8 thoughts on “wolves howl: a mockingbird’s denial

    1. i have been quite manic for the last couple weeks, but i can feel the depression growing, hungry like a wolf in the snow. i have been told i speak in metaphors and it is quite infuriating. i don’t know how else to translate the overdose of everything without them.

      Liked by 1 person

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