Prey (poem)


I froze because,
I wasn’t yet ready to kill.
I was ready to die,
But I survived.

Animals need their instinct,
Death is always visible.
Anxious and urgent,
Morose and depressed.

Smell danger in the air,
Learn the scent of predators.
I was living in their dens,
They’ve learned to follow me too.

Tracking and evasion,
I know both their ways.
Hunt me and be hunted,
Ambush and strike from a distance.

Little Red (poem)


Hooded and protected,
Safe in a cocoon.
Wrapped in a baggy jacket,
Soaked with feminine blood.

Mixed in with sweat,
Dripping under summer’s sun.
No form under the folds,
Faceless in the dark.

Where are the wolves you fear?
They can smell you through your cloak.
Ride away, Little Red,
You’re not safe here.