9 November 2012
Wild thing caterwauls, late at night: Glittering bright and eyes wide As I sit at my windowsill, looking on. How I long to be like wild thing, Swinging from love to love, Looking for the cure for sleep In the bottom of a bottle. She slips away into velvet darkness And with a howl, she is gone. Wild thing lives To escape from me.
Wild thing slips into people's arms, And she is so small, fragile-looking, and is loved. She makes them laugh, makes them scream, Howling with joy as she performs. She makes them wild with her soul! And they follow her, Because she says things they want to hear But would never say
Wild thing gets in trouble, But she bares her pearly teeth And people forgive her, or... Perhaps they are scared. Bushy-haired and pointy-faced, She scratches out with scarlet nails. "Wild thing is insane! Damaged!" Yet even then, she is lifted on the shoulders Of so many, who call out "Wild thing! Wild thing!" And grip her skinny limbs tightly. We must not drop this tiny creature.
When I see wild thing, I want to be her. I want to run like the wind And howl at the moon Like the creature of the night she is.
She fills you up inside With this... Emotion, this self-worth. She does the things you want to do, But never would. But she grips your hand in her own tiny fingers, And takes you through dreams you never had.
Her tiny, hard body, red lips, slender legs, Dances through the night, And back to me. I open the latch, and feel the cold bite at me. Looking over one sharp shoulder, With her white hair blowing in the nights breeze, She smiles, like a predator and a friend. 'There must be so many secrets in her hair,' Staring me straight in the eyes, With a piercing intensity That exposes more of me than anything else ever has, Leaving me a tiny child, Ready to be shaped. "Come" she whispers, her high cheekbones glittering in the moonlight.
And, with that, I go.
Wild Thing Comes • Opuss № I