Sit, Stay, Beg.

You do not need to pity me.
I do enough myself.

I look back on my life,
And I see a small child,
Just trying to survive,
And being hated for it.

A child who was repeatedly beat into submission,
Who's demeanor reflects that of an abused dog.

I do not know who I am.
I do not know what to be.
I never learned how.
I am still small.

There is a constant scream in my mind.
One I haven't heard in a long time, yet it echoes timelessly.

I find some comfort in it's consistency.

I often express my desire to be strong,
To fight for myself,
To do anything for myself.

But it's hard to teach an old dog new tricks.