The Big bad wolf By aldo kraas, www.PoetryPoem.com/poet11586 Unlock all Features - Upgrade to Poetry Prime
I once met the big bad wolf
His teeth were clean like slates; white and unstained
His stomach rumbled
My blood boiled like medium rare
Not well done
He knew what he liked
As I prompted his appetite
I wasn't safe
Wasn't able to keep the wild away
So I smiled
He smiled back.
What big teeth you have
—You linger in my mind like a scar
deep enough not to fade, which is to say
you catalyze broken dream catchers
a necromancer that devours and reanimates something so unholy, that it made part of me feel so unclean
Undead
Unsalvageable
—Fictitious
This is my version of Brother's Grimm
Before you, I never knew the darkest of things could come out in daylight
Your mouth: a promising morgue
“No,” I said, “I do not want to spend time with you”
What big hands you have
—One month later, I remembered you had a lisp
—You are the memory of someone I've tried to erase
But you gave my mind so much to remember
Because of you, I am too afraid to see my grandmother,
My mother, my friends, my boyfriend, anything that would mean leaving this house
So I go on the balcony; but my cigarette fingers tighten as I lament to the moon
You howled like a Titan, calling out my name like I was part of you. Like I was the moon
You
smiled at me so wide, I was afraid you would swallow me whole
You
forced me silent because you were the barrel of a shotgun
You
put a safety on my mouth
But I
didn't feel safe.
‘No'
didn't keep me safe.
‘Stop'
didn't make me safer than I already wasn't
You are the rough hone that makes my silence so painful
I am the epitaph you have reanimated into a haggard heartbeat
The police told me that I was safe—that it was over—that I could move on
—But he rioted! You rioted! You rioted over my unspilled blood and wore my skin like I was your trophy
Like you were the first wolf to make it to the moon, then claimed it
The Big Bad Wolf was the lowest I'd ever been
For the next seven months, a kiss was all I could ever handle from my boyfriend
Ely walked around the remains of a glass house
Trying to put the pieces back together, trying not to get cut
—Because I remember
The way you looked
At me
—I remember
The way you grabbed
Me
—You claimed me
Like I was your trophy
—But your reward was breaking it
Every time I think of you
Your hands remind me of the gallows
Which is to say
that I played fault
in walking
towards
the
howl
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