No one trusts the wounded dog
Injured animals tend to bite and scratch
long bound loyalty only lasts as long as usefulness
the wounded dog isn't useful
it can't hurt as it's still healing
it can't be invited in as it's messy
it can't be fed as it may bite the feeding hand
it can't be touched as it's afraid
it's unreliable and outcast
it is left to thrive alone or die just the same
none shall ask why it bites
they only blame it for doing so
it bites for fear of being harmed
fear of losing what little it possesses
fear of false hope
no one calls the wounded dog.
what use is a wounded dog?
it can lick its wounds, but its scars remain as unsightly reminders that this dog will never be welcomed by a pack
the former pack caused them
the new pack will find them cumbersome
so a lone wolf attempts to be born as an act of defiance toward fates cruel hand
but wolves can't survive alone
and wolves that stray too close to the self-proclaimed innocent and righteous settlements of humanity are hunted
so the wounded dog must stay a dog
it can't growl
no barking
never beg
just survive alone by the tip of its tail
just keep walking because familiarity is only a haven for those favored by the masses
for the wounded dog, it means death
never familiar
never comfortable
never stopping
never at peace
such is the life of this wounded dog.
YOU ARE READING
Words I've Kept
PoetryThis is my coping mechanism. I love poetry and feel like it's the only anchor for me some days. I thank those who have me strength to share. I write about Trauma and dark moments of my life so if those aren't for you neither is this.
