Clinging to the trees of a forest fire

They smeared shit on their skin so they could blend in at night

Clinging to the trees of a forest fire
The smeared shit on their skin so they could blend in at night i can hear them howling.
I can feel their footsteps all over my soft spots.
Years of degeneration.
The hell of a cold world surrounded by starving wolves.
She sleeps soundly in our cave while i try to dig my way out of it.
Trapped on the inside of my soft spots.
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