Heart Cut From A Wild Dog

I hold back screams
Stupidified in a fog of words

“Fuck words, Fuck fears, Fuck bars”
I scream.

I breathe the sound from water against a log
And spit and pump like the heart cut from a wild dog

I hate and spin with dark powered rage
As I weep in sorrow a tiny boy’s tears

 © 2014 Martin H. Wilde

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