"Guard Dog"

Microscopic knives pierce holes into my flesh as the words you utter find their way through me, imperceptible to the masses but wrapped in arsenic that seeps to my heart. Your love sits in the corner on guard, a growling, seething junk-yard dog that I do my best to ignore, in hopes that you will just disappear in the froth and hatred from your mouth. Aleathia Drehmer 2007