My soul is saddening.
And crying out to the wolves.
Take me away. No answer.
Take me away. Louder.
Take me away. Hysterical.
But while geographically there were many places she could have gone to.
In reality there was no place left to go.
His flinty eyes of malice recognised this.
And licking his lips. Charged.
Through sinew and synapse chomped.
No morsel left to be spat out.
Only her emptiness lingered
He could not wrap his jaws around
What did not exist.
That seething chasm of nothingness
Every second, every minute, every hour, every day.
Swallowing all hope in its midst
And mainlining the remaining smulch into veins of her ill-begotten offspring.
Why, the wolves of course.
Ravenous little critters.
Engorged breasts of black milk
Mewling malevolence howled.
But madre macerated could not answer with a kiss.
Consumed by her own despair.