It was a peculiar thing

And I'll admit it did sting

But I relished in the sense

And the intricate suspense

Everyone says its a knife in the back

But I was faced with your attack

And in slow motion

I saw the knife pierce my heart, no emotion

You, with blood on your hands

Me, with a knife in my chest

I expected outrage from the stands

But your performance progressed

With no complaint or utter of shock

My pain fell on deaf ears and eyes

And I was the laughingstock

Too weak to resist, to rise

I was left to bleed

Without a friend, in my time of need

I looked to the sky

Waiting patiently to die

But my heart kept its beat

It refused to retreat

I looked to the stars

And rose, covered in blood and scars

Sharp little teeth

brandished like a warning.

Saliva dripping,

He is laying in wait.

Waiting for me.

Careful now!

I mustn't get too close.

He senses my presence.

I try to sneak by his lair,

Now matter how quiet,

On my tip-toes.

An outraged wail.

He knows I'm near.

He senses my fear.

I'm startled

by his furious scream.

As if he can smell me

Or somehow,

Someway

We are connected.

Telepathically,

Internally,

Eternally.

Have you ever tried to

Call a truce

With a monster?

I did.

It didn't work out that well.

This monster is

Unreasonable.

A tyrant.

A dictator.

A carnivore.

My 3 year old son.

He really

Hates naps.