Let The Wolves Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

I was told to feel better
By someone of poignant grace
And I liked it so much.

But here I am,
With a plethora
Of sleeping, fumbling thoughts
That coalesce
With the nothingness
One by one
I am not doing any good.

And I read a straight array
Of lines
And it’s as if the poet
Breathes inside of me
Scathing my veins,
I am near capitulation.

I am tired
Somnolent
Ambivalent
Worn-out in my dog-bones
Slavered
Marred
As a thick wall of blood
I am dried
I am emptied by the drought
Of the heart.

Defaced
Dissected
And used.
There’s nothing
But rue
Anguish
Anger
Lethargy.
There’s nothing left to do
Let the wolves steal
All of me.