As I stand, seething with animal rage,
claws flexed and jaws dripping ready for your face,
it is simple:
I would fight you to the death.
Me or you,
one or the other.
Nothing else to be said.
I would tear you apart piece by piece
And yet here as I pace
behind my line that I have drawn
I will defend to the end
you will not cross I have sworn.
And I pace up and down
growling, snarling at your delusions,
there is nothing I can say that makes any difference in any way.
Oh, go away you fucking fuckwit, and do not return…
But you won’t, we can’t.
And I growl snarling at your face,
I hate you for not being able to see what I see,
I hate you for staying colluded with patriarchy.
And I hate you more so for your projections of hysteria and insanity,
your pointing and labeling,
and your judgmental dictating.
I salivate at the thought of tearing you apart once again,
I salivate at the thought of ripping you apart with my claws.
Yet this cub of ours loves you,
she adores the ground you delude and petrude upon,
she worships the way you unquestionably move on.
I can’t keep her behind my line,
she won’t come back here –
this place is full of my pacing, snarling, hating fear…
What do I fear?
Fear her being lost to me, gone to the other side,
Fear that I will be swallowed by this terrible pride
that I can only tear you apart,
seek retribution, nothing more.
Fear that I can’t live with this
whilst you function so effortlessly in this oppressive score.
Functioning you are.
Functioning whilst I am crippled with rage,
snarling through my breath.
There is no place for her here,
amongst this seething burning churning fear.
If I want her to know me I have to be clear of my hate.
I see that I am grieving that I can’t do this with you,
grieving that you can’t,
grieving that you won’t
and raging that you can continue with such limited wisdom available to you.
You just plow on regardless,
blocking me out,
leaving me to poison myself with my righteous doubt.
I want to destroy you.
I want to defeat you.
I want to publicly, wholesomely, defiantly make mince meat of you.
That you can continue moving through in this life away from me,
functioning well in this system that maintains its oppressive intent upon me.
Suppressing those things that give freedom, agency:
surrender, non-attachment, emotive being, feeling and the unknown.
This system that keeps us from the reality of our whole,
you function so well here, you must be so proud.
I hate you.
And more so I hate that she sees me as the dysfunction and not this governance that keeps you safely endowed.
So here with my claw I draw a line in the sand,
here is where I say to you I let not your energy stand.
Here your delusion does not cross again.
Here your nonsense does not touch me.
Here I can let go of you validating or oppressing me.
Here I cut you out of my possible reality,
knowing full well that she brings it back to me.
But I won’t question any more my standing on all fours.
I stand here clear, in touch with my claws
as your projections fall from me
and only my strength endures.
I am mighty, I am awesome, powerful and sound.
I move on now, it is done.
I look forward to her returning in fullness of fun.