A Killing in Display
how does it feel to walk with a lion's name? all the glory is in your black mane. you show those teeth to your prey and my eyes just had to step away from my instincts and translate it as a living smile you would flash each day instead of a killer bite you would press onto me one day. how brave of you to stand in front of me face-to-face, how wise of you to formulate all those words and sentences and let them sail at the air to my ear trails. you planned the whole serving on the tray and let them marinate in my brain. now you have hypnotized your prey.
how foolish of me to be wrapped around your tail and be led to your pack. how generous of you to premiere to them a play. how generous of me to let all of you eat at my shame. how cowardly of me to not say a single thing. but i know that even if i relay this around the sphere, the triumph would be recognized under that grin on your face. how does it feel to walk with liberty in the brightness of day? i am the injured, i am the tricked, i am the amputated... and yet all the disgrace is in no accordance with the hands of the one who terminated. you are my last straw, my last drink, my last intake of a beverage i never learned to distinguish between remedy and bane.
