caught

thing is, after all that's said and done,
is . . .
is is
that I am like a wounded wild
thing, pulling a bloodied paw from a trap.

whenever I think it's clear, you dig it in,
clench me from across an ocean and a continent.

angry, confused, growling and clenching
my scarred jowls,
baring stained and rabid teeth.

you make me angrier than anything,
ravenous and ready to fight.
it is never healed.
never fucking healed.

stop fucking messing with it
and let me go.