This is where the ash on your tongue
Is sweeter than the blood on your hands
Even if they both mean the same thing
And these wolves with their sharp teeth and red tongues
are eating you alive but still you want to love them
They can’t help their nature
Any more than you can help your own
You are made of regret and grief
But you bite the hand that comforts you
Because you don’t know any other way
Because what are you without your pain?

The wolves are circling
And though were raised by them
You don’t recognize them as family now
And they certainly don’t recognize you
But still you want to love them
You take every bite, every drop of blood drawn
And tell yourself that this is what you deserve
Tell yourself you can never really go home.