Ballad of a Cornered Animal


I thrive where others run.

My existence is at the bottom of the food chain; where everybody is out to get you, where loyalty can be bought and sold like stocks, and family is just a half-written novel lost in the memory of a distant summer

I’ve been here my whole life; you think that’s weakness?

I’ve been sucker punched, upper cut, pistol whipped, stabbed, thrown to the ground, stepped on and stomped on; I’ve become one with the pavement and still come back swinging

You think you know weakness?

You think you know strength?

I’ve felt 13 different bones in my wrist snap like balsa wood under the flimsy weight of a 130-pound 13-year old; I’ve been down on my luck and didn’t miss a single step

I’ve been pushed into corners consisting of four right angles and climbed my out by building ladders of mirror shards reflecting my broken face back at me while cutting my fingers open

I’ve been that corned animal my entire life

I’ve been picked on by guys twice your size; I’ve been smacked around the inside of my bedroom

You think you know weakness?

I’ve had nothing going for me but a black eye and bruised ribs, my wind has been knocked out of me so many times I think my lungs have forgotten what it means to take a deep breath



My weakness has become my strength

So make sure you know what you’re doing when you cock that fist back because as long as there is a single gluon holding me together I will make it my religion to bring you down

Off your high horse, dethrone you from the top of your hypothetical food chain and show you what it’s like when everybody you think you can trust has a knife prepared for your back

I sleep with three eyes open.

There is a greater wisdom to be perceived here.

You think you know weakness and you think you know strength but, in reality, you don’t know the first of it.


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