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Wolves
The wolves are gaining fast now.
Nipping at my heels.
You’re the only one that can save me now
And you’re not even here
What can I do without you?
Do I keep on running or stand and fight?
The bile is rising fast now
My breath becoming shallow
Can these corridors be hallowed?
I don’t know if I can run anymore
This pill is too hard to swallow
The wolves are gaining faster now.
To fight or fly is my decision
I’ve got to stop my running now
Face my own mistakes.
One cannot run forever
That was your miscalculation
You won’t make me break now.
I wont be broke ever.
I carry you on my shoulders now.
Could this weight be any heavier?
I want to sever this tie with you
But to be gone is not forgotten
I’m forced to face the wolves now
Their incessant chase is over
They will not be satisfied
But they will be killed.
I am done making sacrifices.
I am just as much a wolf as they
I will only feed myself now.
I will keep them at bay.
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I was in my psychology class last night when I was talking to my professor. We have both lost parents and we got to talking about how they were lost and what the crushing depression feels like. He described them as wolves that, if not fed, would devour him whole. We discussed that our depressions were different. Mine felt as if feeding the wolves would only make them stronger, easier for them to take me down. While he said his wolves got angry if he didn't address them for some time and the wolves would come back with a vengance. He fed his wolves with little sadness and heartbreak but he fed them daily. I, on the otherhand, do not feed my wolves at all. I keep my sadness to myself and the wolves don't chase me as much anymore.