i’m not a violent dog, i don’t know why i bite | by keng | Medium

To survive, I have to live with all the rage and anger within me. I don’t know how to be gentle — my teeth always crave flesh, like a monster; a beast waiting for its victim. I didn’t know how to love without making them bleed. My love always leaves marks of my teeth. I’ll understand if you leave. I apologize; it would have been so terrible to be loved by me. After all, how could I offer gentle hands when all I knew were claws? The world taught me to defend myself with teeth bared and a growl simmering in my chest. I wasn’t always this way. I’m still grieving for the person I’ve become. I didn’t want to be the monster they turned me into. I am what I am because they trained me. I bottled up all this rage as a child, believing that if I didn’t raise my voice, I would remain invisible. If you don’t shout, you’re drowned out by the noise inside our house; if you don’t scream, they won’t hear you at all. It was as if silence was a punishment, and only the loudest voice could demand their a

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• Joyce Wong