Wolf

11.3.09
Sponges are supposed to scrub
the dirt away.
Clean us, cleanse us, refresh
us after a hard day.
I am a sponge of the most absorbent
kind – too absorbent
I got thrown in the ‘fail’ pile,
Sponges aren’t supposed to poison
everything they touch.

I am the asbestos-filled orphanage
That forgot to warn you of
the horror in the walls
and that has puddles of blood
on every floor.
Blonde curls finger paint red sunsets.
Innocent eyes fill with smiles.
Unblemished ears listen to the story
of little red riding hood.

I am the wolf.
I am the wolf fighting nature.
I am the wolf losing the battle of wills.
I am the wolf wishing to be human.
I am the wolf locked in a room of my enemies
who are trying to shoot me down
but apologizing for their actions as they aim
and I am so aware of my big, bad teeth.
I am the wolf…