A Poem by em810



I can feel it, writhing in my veins.  The cold-blooded truth.  The answer I fear the most �" alive in my brain, my bloodstream, my thoughts. 

I walk up, snow crunching beneath my feet, and pull the doorknocker.  No one answers.

I head back, back to the warmth of my home, back to the safety of the throws.  Back to my escape from reality. But you are taunting me, begging me, dragging me back to you with every step I take.

And I know that I am the one who did this to us. And I can feel your burning hatred punishing my actions - for being the one to mess with a perfect imperfection.  Because every time you avoid me I can feel a burning pain start in my chest digging deeper still.  But I keep on.

I sit by the fire, listening to the crackles of the fire. I listen to the wind howl and the wolves move as one.  

© 2013 em810

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Added on February 6, 2013
Last Updated on February 6, 2013
Tags: wolves, writhing, veins, truth, fear, answer, alive, brain, bloodstream, thought, love, hate, burn, snow, hatred, imperfection, perfect, imperfect, fire, cold, pain, sadness, action, beg, home