I’d Let A Wolf Kill Me Before I Tried The Berries.

You would expect a wolf to rip out your throat,

because that’s his nature.

Any shred of kindness would be worse,

because at the most it’d be incomprehensible and,

at the least,

insincere.

However, a berry is sweet and delicate.

I just want to pluck it and feel it pop in between my teeth,

raising my blood sugar along with my mood.

But I’ve never learned about plants,

And how to tell safe from deadly.

So I lay down with wolves,

Screaming and drawing attention to myself,

Because I know exactly what I’ll get when they wake up startled.

I put myself there, because there is no,

shock,

surprise,

mystery,

when they mangle my body.

But berries…

I couldn’t bare the thought of filling my stomach with something friendly,

Tender,

and then suddenly foaming at the mouth,

because I thought I was safe.

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Dream About the Beach

requiem-for-a-dream-final

Everything is discordant as I dip my toes in the rarely-warm water,

the sharks direct their attention to my body,

so I move it out of their way,

less from necessity,

but from reflex.

A gentleman in maroon and gold stripes asks me what flavor of taffy I want,

but I look up at the gray clouds moving in,

and feel the common inability to answer any question,

that relates to what I need.

And when the creature who murdered my body outside the shelter of a dream appears,

 …to do it once more…

I shove my head into the sand,

and wonder why you have to ruin this space too.