The Howlers

Childhood was confusing.
Laughter echoed in long stretches of silence
and smiles lasted as faint after-images.
Love was present but felt like an apparition.

They were trained not to love
so instead, they learn to howl.
An awuuuuu for a night of deafening terrors
and an awuuuwu for a night of deadly tears.

Broken goods in lovely packages,
the sadness within glittered in their eyes
laced their gestures and gazes.
People can see this lonesome beauty.

Even though they remember the exact words
that were flung through the house
could taste still their poison,
they knew better than to keep listening.

The howlers grow up wild.
The love they never felt as a child
became a fire that consumes sanity
but regardless, creates beauty.

The howlers may claim invincibility
when they are the epitome of fragility.
Their past in their bones
they let the flesh ripen.

When you see a howler, you'll know they're howlers.
The song in their movements,
the intricate patterns of their scarred countenance
though masked, always apparent.