Thought I would feel better,
something other than numbness,
in the deafened moments,
glass in my mouth,
should feel more?
When there is no elation,
when you spit it out,
splintered bits about,
Am I cursed to be
what I could not believe?
Does it mean anything?
The people I needed,
used me,
the people I pleaded,
bruised me,
till I yielded,
and I gave up.

And when it broke,
it broke deep.

I will not chase those streets any longer,
I will not run after the stick,
instead I will turn and bite,
snarl strong and sick,
knowing:
I would rather die in the fight,
than break and roll over.
So know me now,
teeth glint,
hackles rent,
hell bent,
and unrelenting.

-DM 2018