wolves hide in the secrets that wrap our hearts like shrouds

fair is foul / and foul is fair.
is that why my skin is etched / with scars of sin and sorrow. why
i cry salt-soaked pillows and french vanilla ice-cream, why
good girls bloom broken hearts / and
nice boys whisper gilded lies.
there are wolves in the shadows between my ribs, a howl /
echoing in the cave of my hallowed throat. so
when the moon shines alabaster ivory, watch
for claw-marked walls
and girls / with bloody daggers tucked behind their spines.