Let my enemies stand before me
baring their fangs like wild dogs
as they circle around
minds racing
finding a weakness

Let them establish a plan
to drench the earth before us
with the stench of scarlet blood
whomever’s it may be
in the end

For I will fight the good fight
even if the last thing i swallow
is the pain that encumbers my every fiber
my last breathe will not be in vain
but one less they will be able to take

For my last giving moments
will be tough earned
and the last thing that will slip from my lips
will be a promise of vengeance
if that is the way the earth mote it be

In the dark I sat perched on his chest
like a house cat that craved attention

Purring soft sounds into the night
as the neighborhood around stirred in silence

I curled up into a ball and tucked my paws
under my chin to rest for the night

yet the domestic cat must still have enemies
that they join the mice in running from

the dogs barked and I felt the hair on my neck
come to a standing position

Hiding places seemed scarce as i darted around
the room desperate for high ground as they neared

my nose alerted me that they were close-
outside the bedroom door I heard them growl with hunger

a door of such no match for the beasts of the night
and with vulnerability i watched them bound towards me

teeth bared, claws ready,  alarm in my chest
i could feel their breathe on my face

and with panic i awoke to find not a cat nor a dog
but a boy who thought he was a man

i was perched on his chest like a lazy house cat
resting in the sun who held not one single worry

As i looked around the room no danger was ever present
but one can only be naive once

this time i would be ready with a twitch of a hand
to claw my way out of danger
with any foe who should come for me

I met a genius on the train
today
about 6 years old,
he sat beside me
and as the train
ran down along the coast
we came to the ocean
and then he looked at me
and said,
it's not pretty.

it was the first time I'd
realized
that.

the porcelain feels cold
against my skin
i dont know whether
this is real
or a dream
but i do know that i am on the floor
and that my throat stings
with the painful regret
of lasts nights haunting

this is not who i am
but is my forefathers before me
so therefore
it is the ace that stares back at me in
the mirror
lifting its cold arm
liquid to mouth
regret to sorrow

my father would be proud of
his youngest
undoubtedly his smartest child
following pace by pace
in his deep footsteps
his serpent eyes would
reflect off the glass
that i am bringing to  my mouth

and he would laugh
like he's done a thousand times
because in the morning i wont know who i am
my name will be a lie
and i will regret every decision
i have ever made

he will use this time to escape
like his own fathers before him
and he will place the blame
and pass his pain
onto anyone
especially a child

and he will be scared to stray-
to confront
so he continues to march
in the footsteps
that even precede
him

the porcelain feels cold
against my skin
and i can feel it
and i can feel my throat
and i choose feeling
over the comfort
my forefathers have chosen before me
before ME