Try again.
Threaten me.

You think you’ve got
More guts than me?

How many teeth do you
Think you need?

I could check if what
Insults you’ve prepared
Are backed by your
Weak spine.

I’ve seen your kind
And I’ve got more
Bite than all of you.

Step back,
Stand down,
Or back off.
Ideally all,
In either order.

Because this
Won’t end very well
For you.

When it comes down
To it, I’m certain
You have no
Lever like I do.

No switch to throw
To change the tide,
No apathy for you
To hide

Any longer when red vision
Tunneling takes over.

I grow numb

To cuts or wounds
Or broken bones,

And no blood shot
Will stop me from
Showing you
That insulting me
Was not the smartest
Thing to do.

To rend in my haste
Is to objectify you.


Like punching a wall
That can feel

Cracking away the beams
And drywall
In satisfaction
To see destruction

In contempt
For the asbestos dust
That burrows
Underneath my fingernails
And coats my skin.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.