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.

- k.a.