wolves and wrath
wolves and wrath poems stories
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crabchips
crabchips they/them
Autoplay OFF   •   a year ago
we'll come together at midnight and tear the woodsman down, for he has hurt little red riding hood.

wolves and wrath

the moon is my witness.

she knows what you have done.

she whispered to me on that sorrowful night, "she's been hurt. they've all been hurt."

i never got the chance to initiate the hunt,

but now my teeth will be stained with your blood.

i will terrorize for the sake of the girls.

the girl who was too young.

the girl who just wanted to live her first high school dream.

the girl who couldn't find her strength.

your list of victims is quite long, woodsman.

you thought you could get away with all of this,

but the forest has an interesting way with revenge.

every time you stare at a young girl who was just like one of them,

i feel the urge to gouge your eyes out.

you don't deserve a smile or even a glance.

you deserve a harsh bite to the throat.

can't make up lies without a voice, can you now?

yet still, you are showered with praises and privileges.

they're still reminded of the nights that felt like the earth had died.

do you know of this? you probably don't.

some have claimed my wrath is too ferocious, too terrifying.

and sure, they may be right.

but when you pry on girls who try so hard to avoid terror,

my howls will reach your ears.

so watch out, woodsman,

because this wolf will huff and will puff and will blow you down.

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