I'm finding guilt
underneath the carpet's
edges
as I dust them there.

Deal with it later,

pushing away emotions like meals,
promising myself to finish them off
but ending up throwing the scraps
of whats left of me
to the dogs.

And that's all I am aren't I?

Pieces of meat to be flung at the hungry
take parts of my soul like parting gifts
thoughts like unwelcomed house guests.

But who am I to stand on this ground
and claim it to be my own?

I belong to those who control me,
making statements
"Skirt too short"
"Hair unkempt"
"Too big"

With every bitter bite
in their sentences
a chain is added
to my collar.

Make me obey,
simply because if I was too free,
what fear would it cause you?

Passion or anger I know not the difference anymore.
I pick up pieces of shattered glass
And set them aside
like a puzzle
not worth putting together.

I don't know who I'm angry at anymore.
Myself for not dealing with these feelings earlier,
or the bitter call to obedience I answer?

Tame me once more,
and my bite will not go away,
but simply be domesticated.

And with those thoughts I leave you,
dare to cross me again,
and I will not wear your collar,
with prideful ambition
as I once did.