The Wolf, The Hood, The Hill

The little girl climbs upwards

her limbs, aching

her lungs, burning

and yet she struggles

onwards and upwards

desperate to reach the top.

The little girl climbs upwards

She does not pause.

She does not stop.

But continues upwards

continues onwards

dragging herself up

step

after

wretched

step.

She is unaware of how far she has come.

The little girl climbs upwards

She is determined.

She is stubborn.

And yet

she finds herself

slowing down

she finds herself

burning

out.

The little girl climbs upwards

She is exhausted.

She is weary.

And yet

she perseveres, convinced

that when she reaches the summit

she will

be

safe.

She is unaware of how far she has left to go.

The little girl climbs upwards

but what awaits her at the top?

What seperates what she is

running

to

from what she is

running

from?

Oh, little girl,

I wish I could tell you

that safety isn’t

always safe,

that your red cloak

won’t protect you

from the Big Bad Wolf

from his leering grin

or his invasive claws

when they grab onto you

sink into your skin and

don’t

let

go.

So, little girl,

you must arm yourself

for armour will not stop

those who

wish to break you.

And you must not be afraid

for they can smell your fear.

So be bold, little girl,

For the Wolf draws near.