Rottweiler

Yellow teeth,

            Strong jaws,

                        Bloody lips,

Belladonna,

            Survivor,

                        Dead

That’s what they say makes a fighter

Use them

            bodies broken beyond repair

Feed them little

            makes meat, even dog meat, appealing

Poke and Prod

            sharper sticks make the profits go up

Metal Crates

            never comfortable unless they’re in the ring

Forced to live

            Body wants to live

Mind overpowered

            Instinct rushing out of the gate growling

Not daunted by ribs poking out of sides

Not scared of a large, lean muscle bound bitch

Open the latch fast

            Jump back quicker

            Gotta be quicker than the bite - worse than the bark

No barking, snarl

                        Ears back, tail up

                                    Don’t look down, don’t back up

                                    Go forward, shove them back

Into dark corners, metal edges

            Don’t look scared, whites of the eyes not daring show

Yellow teeth

            Fake light shining from behind

Tables turned

            Faster than the light, move past

            Wide body past a skinny frame

Snarl, no mercy, no understanding

            It hurts to understand

Everything hurts

            Pain, sharp in the side

Retaliate

            Pain, in the mind

Flesh and Blood

            That’s what we’re made of

Love

            That’s what we’re missing

Turned another switch

            Clumsy larger paws fumbling around the circle turning

            Ready to strike

Every side turning in

            It feels like a trial

Why is she on trial?

            Nothing wrong

            Nothing wrong except losing

Red Teeth

            Stronger Jaw

                        Bloody Wounds

Lose

            Loser

                        Lost

That’s what they say makes a dead dog.

Beaten and Broke

            Just lunge already

                        These large unsteady paws are failing

Lost blood clouds vision

            All it would take is one more wound

                        Body already turning against

Just like you did

Kin, Kith, Comrade

Is this mercy?

            Thought it would be sweeter, shorter

                        Think it is bittersweet and baleful

                                    Now though it is nothing

Final blows struck

            Nimble paws and a vice jaw are the end

End of story

            End of my story

Maybe it was worth it...not to continue.