This Tired Dance

Rage

My hands
holding its throat, squeezing
trying to crush it

Its claws
wrapped around my heart, piercing
trying to seize it

A battle for control
of dominance, of owning 
of mutual destruction

We dance it,
me and the beast, hating and loving,
this tired old dance.

Mourning

My hands
caressing the face, covering
trying to hide self-inflicted wounds

Its tears
washing the broken heart, searching
for a way to suppress the pain

A struggle to let go,
to forgive, to accept
to let go and finally heal

We dance it
mind and body, enforcing and loathing
this tired old dance.