you treat yourself like a wounded animal.
you’re drowning in your own blood,
demons rather.
your wounds fester & rot & your demons escape & drown you.
you don’t know why you got shot or why you deserve such pain.
you don’t know why you got caught in the headlights.
so you wallow in a pool of red, your demons.
as they taint your skin crimson
& leave your soul hollow.
you live life on the ground
because reality’s a hard pill to swallow.
you’re waiting to be put out of your misery.
you want to die, to end it all.
or you’re waiting for someone to come along & pick you up, poor wounded animal.
someone to stop the bleeding, fix up your wounds & make you okay again.
you’re waiting for someone to make you whole.
you’re waiting for someone to stop your demons from drowning you
but you’ll be waiting a lifetime drowning in your demons waiting for someone to throw you a life jacket.
we either wait or we die…
or we save ourselves. the lucky ones, i suppose…
it is said an animal would rather bite its own paw than die in an animal trap.
we who save ourselves, crawl away from the car that hit us. take out the arrow that hit us. bite off the leg that’s caught in the trap so we can survive.
we who wait for someone to save us end up bleeding to death.
& those of us that want to end our misery either do it, or live our entire lives wishing we had.
survival instinct… bite off your paw to save yourself from the animal trap for none can save us but ourselves.