Like a puppy beaten from birth
scampering and yelping
cowering outside
in the cold starless night.
Beaten by a dog's best friend
hurting to kick anything.
Flesh and bone give,
bend to the will of
an irrational iron fist.
But when the lights go out
belly-crawl inside
dragging forward
your broken ribs
surrounding your broken heart.
Curl up below the bed;
wait eagerly for tomorrow.
Not for the food
and not for the toys,
but because violence is love to you,
the wounds are your keepsakes,
and this is home.

<.< what's with all the sad poems lately?

and it's really bad how I relate with this one ><

XD I was thinking of Andrea when I wrote it.

oh...well...I can still relate >.>