She Is Well Practiced In The Art

I Will Be My Undoing, If I Become My Obsession. I Will Forget The Ones I Love, If I Do Not Serve Them. I Will War With Others, If I Refuse To See Them. Therefore, I Choose To Turn Away From My Reflection, To Rely Not On Myself But On My Brothers And Sisters, To Project Always Outward Until I Disappear [and Only God Remains.]

You Know, There's A Word For Big, Strong Men Who Attack Women, And It's Coward.

But Now I’m Wondering If I Need It Anymore, If We Ever Really Need These Words, “dauntless,” “erudite,” “divergent,” “allegiant,” Or If We Can Just Be Friends Or Lovers Or Siblings, Defined Instead By The Choices We Make And The Love And Loyalty That Binds Us.

I Can’t Answer Either Question. But The Look She Gives Me Reminds Me Of The Look In The Attack Dog’s Eyes In The Aptitude Test – A Vicious, Predatory Stare. She Wants To Rip Me To Pieces. I Can’t Lie Down In Submission Now. I Have Become An Attack Dog Too.

Sometimes I Just... Want To See It Again. Want To See You Awake.