In front of me was a wolf.
Instant panic. No. Breathe...
Okay, think clearly. What do I do?
Breathe and stay still.
Don't move, breathe
The wolf came closer, sniffing me.
I held my breath, terrified.
I saw its big white teeth running
up and down my leg.
I am going to die.
This is it, breathe.
I shook my head.
Trying to come to my senses:
I can do this.
The wolf turned around.
He was walking away from me.
I let out a sign of relief.
Too early...
It came launching back at me.
I was almost there but I died.
That line "too early" is the perfect twist. I like that you made this into a narrative poem. Brief lines that move the story frantically, just the way you'd feel in such a situation.
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