It's the wolves in sheep clothing that get closest to my heart. But no one hears my cries for help, as they are dry and silent. The beasts scratch, and tear, and bite, and I am unable to move. I am both mesmerized by my own inability to stop it, and stunned with the pain of it all. And I wonder if this time I will get back up once more or lose all my strength and just lay there, bleeding.
The hunt has begun. The blood trail leaves me no chance. I can stop breathing, stop moving, sink into my surroundings, but they will find me, like the wounded get found by their predators. I've become your prey.
This time I really need you more than ever before, and though I've hurt you and you are my reason for drowning in this sea of tears, I'm alone with no hope left than for your rescuing hand. An open wound won't heal but I ask you: Swallow me, save me.
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