I am the bear

Uh, yeah, right, no hard feelings. I mean when people treat me like shit I always reciprocate with kindness and understanding. Can I please clean the bird shit off your windshield? Did you say your house needs painted? Let me get my brush. Oh, there’s a mud puddle. Let me throw myself over it so you don’t soak your dainty toes. That’s okay, I don’t mind your heel in the small of my back or the sting of your syphilic spit in my eyes. Screech….wait, hold it. I’m only bullshitting you. I am the bear. See my teeth glisten like polished railroad spikes. Hear my roar tear through your ear drums and pierce the epicenter of your withering brain. Touch me and feel the rage vibrate up through my fur. You didn’t know I was the bear did you? That’s okay, you couldn’t have known. What you should know though is that you were an unwilling participant in an experiment. No, no, not an experiment with beakers and Bunsen burners and a lab, an experiment of words. A collection of thoughts and people pressed together between two covers. You in all your unflattering glory, naked in your emotion, you as antagonist. Who's wearing the claws now? Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.........