Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing
Wolf In Sheep’s Clothing
–by becky WTGH
I’ve known something’s off for quite some time.
The others are fluffy, soft and nice.
I am huge, hairy, prickly and uptight.
They herd and they follow
I prowl, scowl and sneer.
To make matters worse,
I relax, I let loose, then–
Their eyes light with fear
Is it because I’m queer?
Or is it because —
I’m a wolf in sheep’s clothing,
I have to prowl, growling is what I do.
I’ve been treated me like a predator my whole life.
Accused of man-hating, self-hating
All varieties of being “not-alright”
I’ve been correcting myself,
repressing myself !
Trying to act just so, just right.
I put on the sheep costume,
do my hair all-white.
Take one look at me, and you’ll know it
I’m a wolf, through and through–
Doesn’t take a reveal to show it.
They call me a sheep–
They tell me to sheep–
I howl, in response.
It deeply offends me, you see;
A wolf cannot be a sheep,
No matter how much you raise it
To sing baa, to eat grass nice and neat.
I am a wolf !
I stink like one
My piss reeks and
I can’t mate with sheep–
Only wolves can fuck with me.
Next time they call me sheep;
It won’t bother me, and I won’t howl.
I’ll ravage, I’ll pillage
When I’m done with my fun,
I’ll huff, and i’ll puff
I’ll blow your house down, then—
I’ll say you misgendered me!
Right, now I’m the victim!
you’re very quick to point out.
Crying wolf, acting tough, only to
turn around, lay down and pout.
I worry I’ve got some sort of skin rash
putting on these sheepish-charades.
I haven’t been properly bathing–
Trapped in this fucking sheep suit 24/7.
Now I’m just pathetic–
a manbearpig trapped in a she-shed.
How could I forget–
I’ve started shedding.
Huge clumps of gray fur;
Chest, thigh, face, neck.
Drifting out of the sides of my suit,
itchy, scratchy, matted–unsettling.
They’ll know I’m a wolf, soon,
ready or not.
I am what mother warned you about.
A sinner, a singer, a charming delight.
Can wolves be faithful lovers ?
Or are they hunters,
Chasing stars in the night.
I don’t know who I am, I’ve never been
Out in full light.
Only once in a blue moon, do I ever feel right–
A wolf in sheep’s clothing,
I knew from the moment I heard, that
That’s what I was.
The boy who cried wolf
From inside her–
The one they call “she(ep)”