They Come Out Of TheWoodwork

“They Come Out Of The Woodwork”

Drawn to my weakness

A doubt instilled

Rooted so deep

I fight off the wolves

While I sleep

Around my bed, they creep

Choreographed in their movements

Their paws barely touch the floor

The wolves encircle me

They gather, coming from

The dark woods

They hold out their paws

They want their dues

Cunning, deceitful

Calculating just what they need

What it will take for me to fall

So they can devour me

Cleverly thinking out every preparation

I can hear them pant

I can smell their breath

Foul and rotten

Their mouths diseased

From last night’s kill

They’re hungry and hungry still

Faces painted with mud

So they can stay hidden

In the darkness

Their eyes glowing

Yellow and green

In the moonlight

They can smell my sweat

And sense my nerves bursting

Like fireworks

As they draw closer

They want my words

They want to feast

On my heart

And throw my bones in the icy river

To be scattered downstream

Nipping at my ankles

I violently kick

I start to bleed

This is it

This is all they need