i am holding an axe...

empty towers stand tall in snow
-
yet
still i climb ,
(each step) —

like
a toy upon a shelf
(i am freezing)/

when
you rip the stuffing out of
me
and try to sew me
shut ,

but the
wound is not healing
(it never will)

and
the walls get stained with nicotine::
(i miss when they were white)

when i come back to, i am lost -
scared
(because it is dark)
.

i
try to howl ,
gurgle instead:
and then
i start to weep-
(and my tears all freeze like little pearls) .
.

when i look for them again,
(those girls)

they have turned into
wolves
(i remember my axe)

and they look me in my eyes —
glimmering//

so
spit on me, again,
i say

i
dare you —
this time,
i am not afraid to bite.

(they do not come back for me)
.