sour wolf - a poem

i look at younger me hidden in my room, past 10, playing with my stuffed animals as i imagine im 100 miles away running in the woods, playing with other wolves my age, hunting rabbits and squirrels until my bellys full. i stay quiet to keep my secret but in my head i am speaking in yips and howls. i look at me then and i cry so much at me now and i am laying on the floor at 2 am yearning to be 100 miles away and i look at wolfie my sculpture of a roadkill wolf head and i cry because ive never changed but i grew bitter and cold and sour and i curse myself for letting this happen and i lick my wounds because i think i know its not my fault but its hard to believe it and i look at my 6 year old self with jealousy but mostly i cry because i never really changed i just grew and was able to realize all the hurt i was feeling but sometimes i close my eyes and im 100 miles away in the forest, and i can run for hours and i sleep in a cave and my belly is full of raw meat