a myriad of gears perpetually in movement feeding the wolf with lust-filled eyes of the ****** desire he yearns for. i recognize that i am not the only rabbit he has trapped between his jaws, and fall into the repetitive cycle again. this time, the wolf does not recognize that - as a cog in the machine - i can crank in reverse. the disconnect has the features of his face faded into something unrecognizable, yet i feed the wolf, satiating his hunger for another day to pause the disonnance of my brain.
you can't break my ******* heart if i choose the option to not open it at all.