beat

and before they beat me

they pooled my blood

in a secretive cyst who shrieked

in abscess pus and lancing

they opened her raw and left me

intubated sedated and celibate sobered

they pulled my purpose from under my desk

with a thread, held me from my children

and released the fire storm

they crawled into my organs and out of his

as he tried to turn me to dust. he spewed

down my throat an uncleanliness so potent

I had to be swabbed and here I find myself back

on bed rest. they will not chain me here

they will not beat me with their punches

and I will not waiver by my strength

cos before they beat me I will have beaten them

down to the sweetest pulp I can muster

the most rigid limbs and fallen flesh I can barter

and they will hear it over and over again

that I will never, never be the dust.