' dont be what they made you. '
` i’m not . ‘ reply slips easy from sweet lips ( the wolf waits not a second more , for his prey : the rabbit dangles from his bloody maw / vile in the way he devours the carcass / putrid odor singes within nostrils / he hungers for more , naught is his appetite for flesh / perhaps , then , it is the thrill of the hunt / he chases what he cannot obtain enough of / something intangible / thus , he devours what he can / pity is this fool’s fate ) , defensiveness upon gentle features , hand moves in a feeble attempt to bat away the words of the other : you are not what they made you. ( you are : the rabbit / wolf’s canines dig into your ribs / you drown in your own blood / you cannot escape what has been done to you / &. so you succumb. ) tears well up , &. nails dig into flesh of his own palm , there is a certain tremor hidden ‘neath kind voice , a whelp crying for help , vulnerability be a necklace donned ‘round his neck , heart locket beats over fabric of a worn jacket , he is : but a man , withered , remorseful. ` i … i’m not. i will never be what they did to me -- i am more -- i -- i’m not -- ‘
don’t. accepting. @witchories
