Yes it’s I, the girl with a broken jar for a heart, and yes I have sewn myself back together, but there are cracks in me, still and will always be… Sometimes a crack might bleed by a resurfaced memory… And a wolf may come through a crack again… It may dig its teeth in me I may even slip, but baby, I won’t fall. For I now know there is no one else but I who knows how to get back up. Patch me roar the dragon in me I will perish before I let a wolf, wolf me.