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nadine shane Mar 2019
there was a girl who cried wolf;
it echoes from the hollows of crevices
until it inevitably comes back to her --
it only welcomes her with silence.

and i stand there and watch
as she continues to cry wolf.

the river -
gushing, flowing, full of life -
it stops to listen to her wishes.

the wind -
withdraws from crafting a tempest
and stills.

planted in my own roots,
i sit and hear her howls of desperation.

now, sans woe bellows
from her sunken cheeks,
frail body clad in loneliness.
a ghost of a smile
marrs her rose-colored face.

"liberated," she said, "i wish to be liberated."
silence comes back to greet her.
Grizzo Apr 2017
I heard you howling in the distance,
saw your fading reflection
in the crimson moon
Your tone smelled of something
different, in a pitch only those
of the same pack know

We mostly hunt alone and rarely
cross paths but when we hear
the call of our own we abandon
the chase we return
the call, we charge fearlessly
into the darkness.

We’ve burnt houses trying
to save the ghosts we loved

Our blood shivers most violently
from the lost words of lovers
on December nights in half full
full size beds.

Those of us who stood
in pouring rain and left
what we found there in
a memory of a new beginning
to keep it safe from ourselves.

We’ve burned and swallowed
the ashes of so many maps
to Neverland and we can’t
remember the way
caused shadows in smiles,
emerged from the dirt with rage
of a stubborn heart that continues
to beat.
seen the heights
of the universe
and plummeted to the depths
of dimensions beyond
lifted our arms and eyes
more times than we’ve found
what we’re searching for

Our hope
torn apart by being laid
in a forgotten grave
Our talks
with Saints make
Hell a familiar place
like the sanctuary
of your freshly washed
childhood blankets
and the way they swallowed
everything you were

We solo hunt in crimson moon
rays and share different parts
of the same wilderness

The worlds can only crush
your skin if you are alone,

We return the call with the smell
of something different
charging through the darkness

Inspired by Crywolf and his discography
Crooked Youth Sep 2015
My belief in you wont last forever, my darling.

I need some proof that you are what you say you are.

I hope that you just didn't cry wolf, my darling..

Because my belief in you will eventually falter,
If you arn't who you say you are.

So as my belief in you, it dwindles.
Little by little, with each night.

& my patience begins to wear thin..

I believe in you no longer, my darling.

For you are nothing,
but a Sheep..
In a Wolf's clothing.

— The End —