I fear I may become the dog that bites

Shall I tell it as it is? 

Shall I hold it close and be silent? 

Shall I brood and hug misery in the dark hours?

Hypocrisy to pretend the barbs did not land or that your intent to cause pain is an imaginary thing. 

I see you, I hear you. I understand the point as it passes between the ribs deep, low and unexpected.  

Using my trust and your closeness to draw blood. 

More than the pain I feel the loss of blood and innocence. 

Knowing that from this point I shall ever search for the hilt of future blades in the hands of strangers and friends. 

I will watch for the gleam of cruelness, the glint of coldness in the eye of a possible predator. 

Once, I looked at every face as if hunting for a trace of the friend. 

A puppy over eager to play with all. 

Now, I suspect your intent. 

I brace and make ready to block the expected blow. 

The sadness is, life can be full of kind friends but such blows change the landscape.  

Defences rise, trust drains away and I see this world through a dark hood placed by a hurtful hand.  

This puppy has learned to be wary 

and I fear may become 

the dog that bites in order to survive.

Life teaches many things

that I wish I could unlearn.