Stop Your Howling

Sometimes I feel like a wild animal caught in a trap, trying to decide whether or not to chew off my own leg to get away. The moon makes things worse. My mind reels. My blood riots. Why can’t I figure myself out? I wake up each morning and my heart is in a different place, like it’s being carried downstream by a strong current. And even though I know it’s not true, I look in the mirror and tell myself: You’re not a wolf — you’re just a girl. You’re not a wolf. You’re not a wolf. You’re not.

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