Lair Like Me...

Within this blanket of white I cannot tell which way is up, which way is down? I ask them but they never answer me. They promised me that they would end it. But they, the wolves, circle me so that I can’t move. So that breathing seems a task, afraid of being heard or not being heard.

            The cold is burning my skin, but I am beyond feeling it. I can only feel the snow, wrapping around me so very tightly. I'm not asking for it, I don't even know if I could manage to ask for any more, my bloodstained hands seem always to be calling back to the promise that I made to him. That one fine morning when his face was still and calm, the way it stayed that way until the snow was pulled up over his face and around my body. The long journey I did not cry out, they did not like that.

            There are voices all around me and the clinical smell of talc is there too. The whispers are like ribbons, bonds that fluttering in the wind, whipping up all the white into the air, like when ghost play in the snow.Where am I looking now, into the wolves’ jaws, up into the sky? My eyes can't focus any longer and my mind can only see paper-thin skin on a thin hand. I should not have lied, like a blanket of snow. Softly, softly, calm down. Hold my hand, it wont hurt. Slid the knife quietly, child. Burning my skin. You promised me you’d end it! Liar like me! I can’t breath. The wolf uses its needle teeth and pierces my arm. The white relaxes me and slips into a liquid, hot in my blood. Melt the snow. Melt my mind if you can find it.

            The wolves seem satisfied and say I should be okay now, nice and quiet for you anyway, John. They are wrong. But they know they are liars too. They pull the snow blanket from over my head and turn to leave after tucking it around my restrains. I breathe in, for it is all I can do, in, out, in, out. Staring and the ceiling, wishing it was sky again. They never let me see what is really there. They never let me remember what it was that I did to you.

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