A Tribe

I need to get back to the woods

Feral, untamed

Is there a tribe that I can sustain

Can it sustain me

My hands plunge through the ribs

Sustenance is what I claim

Is there nothing that remains, can this flesh fill

The blood on my hands

I stare and disdain

I mark the trail, every tree

It drips a crimson tide

This corporeal clasp

I’ve released blood of my own

My very last gasp

Is there something worth dying for

Or is this all a false flag exercise

I look at my blood, the small smile of my own

Is all I can wish to die for

Her glimmer of hope, a tribe of my own