maybe the wolf is my mother?
running after me in jealousy as my heart pounds to get away,
begging for escape.
i am the lamb,
maybe the wolf is my brother,
chasing me as a child,
his touch frightening and unkind.
I am the lamb,
and maybe the wolf is my father, ripping and biting at my throat so my screams cannot be heard.
i am the lamb,
pure, innocent,
and covered in blood.
for what is left of me,
if the wolf wears my skin.