Wolves on Different Sides of The Moon.

I feel his grip
one hand tightfisted, encircling my neck
my heart arrested in his other
His claws dug in
Reminding me I have no volition
His eyes intoxicated with pleasure at the way he controls its rhythm
making it race in fear
or depleting  it to an almost lifeless meter
Finding leverage in its throb
and seduction within the vibrations
Enthralled by the rise and fall of pulses
Dominance blinds him to his weakness

Mercy and empathy lay dormant and cold,
forgotten dustballs in the corners of his soul
Cobwebs of insecurities cover every inch
entangling and entrapping love,  
feeding the insatiable beast he is
His mind a jumbled mess of madness mixed with nonsense
Dolls and toys scattered about in excess
amongst the carcasses of values and depleted morals
Mistreated, misused, abused, and overplayed with
They all endured battle wounds on the frontlines of selfish games
And I, was his favorite plaything,
an obsession that bound us both in unbreakable chains  

Clutched in the delusions of a womanizing playboy
Never a man, morphed into a savage hound instead
Remnants of his humanness are merely a broken whisper  
The screams of an abused boy in need of love resound in piercing  rejection
having paved this path through his own accord,
vindication for the blood on his paws is not awarded  

He cries out to the backend side of the moon,
there’s no place for him in the light
Unwelcome, outcasted,
even the cosmos denies his well-worn, hollowed apologies
Under the same obscured sky,
I howl for a lunar reprieve
Alas, I’ll forever carry the scars of his bite
a fate I cannot escape
I may have broken free from his den of rage and sin
But his grip is slow to loosen
I thought I could tame the beast
Yet I crawl away unrecognizable
becoming my own breed of tormented beast instead

© Julia Pauhl, 2021
All rights reserved