The bond

Dear Reader,

sometimes the people closest to us are the ones who hurt us the most and the aftermath causes a lot of damage. No one understands the fragility of a bond better than a strangled pup left to fend for itself. People come and go in life, only a few stay and those are the ones that matter. In the past few years I have come to terms with that. I’ve burned a lot of bridges and even rebuilt some in the hopes of building something stable and beautiful. This poem is about something that cannot be rebuilt or saved, this is about something burned and buried. This is about something so far gone that cannot be fixed. This is about a lifelong trainwreck with no survivors. I cannot tell you how deep it goes. Most people assume it is a surface wound, but the knife cuts deep, right to the bone. You bleed out before you get a chance to process anything, and then you’re just a walking corpse for days. That’s what it feels like. No one really asks you how you feel about it, but let me tell you, the strangled pup survives. It’ll grow into a bloodthirsty wolf and not one person can blame it for turning out this way because this is how it was raised.

I know you’ll never care, you like to act blissfully unaware.

Call me a kid, it’s just not fair.

I drew the short straw and lost myself.

But here’s to your good health?!

And your newfound “wealth”.

Was it worth it?

Dragging me through a pit.

The hellfire burned quite a bit.

I saw my life flash before my eyes,

all they could hear were my cries.

I howled like a wolf to the skies.

I snarled like a strangled pup,

who had just been chewed up.

All because I drank out of your cup.