Wolves

As I lay back in my bed and close my eyes all those flashbacks start playing in my head like a camera roll. And I don’t want them but I don’t get a choice so I toss and turn and bury my face in my pillow, to a point that I almost choke myself on my own mattress. But God, I can’t no matter how hard I try. The height of cowardice is what I feel. So I leave the house, never locking the door behind me, not even bothering to cover my almost naked body in the icy cold weather and I start running. I’m running barefoot and I’m running so fast I left the neighborhood far behind. The town blurs out like a fading memory and I reach the jungle.
The jungle that is so thick and dark and gloomy, the leaves overhead intertwined so intensely not even one ray of moonlight can penetrate. And as I stop right in the middle I hear a howl. My lungs are burning, they’re burning a lot. The flames escape my lungs through my throat and out the mouth they find a way upwards into the ash grey clouds, joining their fumes with a dying spark, the last spark I see, the last ray I could hope for. The howls increase, in number and volume both, and the hungry wolves from my dark past come into sight, their eyes reflecting the gleam of tears I once fed them.
Taking in the sight of all this regret and guilt in front of me I embrace myself one last time, ready to go down and drown once and for all into the mirage I created for myself in my sanity. Even before the wolves attack I get lost in the maze I once built with you at it’s center. And as the fierce teeth first dig into my bare skin, ripping through my flesh until the very bones, a final scream escapes my lips that tears apart the leaves above and reaches right up to the sky shaking it violently, causing it to rain so hard on my already bleeding body, but nobody hears the last cry. And then I just wake up to another day again.

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