Sometimes, I think I am a wolf
A ghost that moves through the forest
Clear pawprints on snow
Bonds stretched unbreakable to the pack around me
Blood alive, singing, I am here, I know what I am meant to be
Then I remember
I am a half feral dog
Chained in the backyard
The metal bites into my neck
If I could I would chew myself free
Maybe I will try anyways
The hands that feed are the hands that beat
I am not like the tamed, toothless creatures around me and they know it
Do I not want what they have?
A gentle touch, a treat from the plate
I scream - we could be free together, a true pack
But they do not hear the call as I do
It is a terrible thing, to know others and yet be alone
I am not the only one of my kind
Creatures of matted fur and snapping jaws
Maybe there I can find true connection
But they are all focused on their own chains
They cannot spare a thought for mine
They say to save yourself first but we cannot save anybody
I am a wild thing in a tame body
Craving human connection but shying away in the same breath
Sometimes, I want those reaching hands to come close
But at the last instant I cannot help the baring of teeth
The desire to bite and rip and tear until they never touch me again
Maybe it isn't the chains binding me, but the fear
I have been away from the wild too long
Would I still belong if I went back?
Would my heart still sing with the joy of being alive?
Would the trees recognise me, changed as I am?
I wonder who I am without the anger
I don't know if there's anything left for me there.
I am a half feral dog
Straining against the chains to get to that faraway land of anywhere-but-here
Looking for a pack I cannot be sure exists
Blood on my teeth, anger flooding ny veins
I think the anger is all that is left
You can steal the wolf from the wild, but you can't beat the wild out of the wolf.












