bought with the coin of weakness
is losin’ its grip on little old me
ah, I can feel it
tentacle by tentacle
prong by prong
sinew by snapping sinew
is it gonna go quietly?
not a chance.
it bellows and hollers in my dreams.
but I analyze those cries, and surprise!
it is only the impotent rage of defeat.
each day now
I poke a little further
out of the eggshell