Cut

Poem By Evan Kelly

The thought stalks through my mind like a wolf. Always present, in the shadows during the day, in the open during the night, waiting for its opportunity to attack. When given the opportunity, it rarely misses when attempting to sink its teeth into the happy thoughts that may be running throguh my mind at that time and even though the gashes that appear on my thighs and arms when the thoughts strike, arent caused by wolves, they hurt just the same.

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