Dorothy McGinnis "Cerberus"  

It is nights like these that I consider Cerberus,
 
this beast of vengeance in the body of a puppy.
And I consider that I, too, am so much rage in the softest box.
 
When I think how anger has been a jar on the highest shelf,
out of my reach, I want to blame my mother.
 
Me, a many-headed beast yearning for
an open hand to pat my head and say I’m doing just fine.
 
Me, a many-headed beast repeating to herself
what a “dumb bitch” what an “ugly slut” what a “stupid whore” she is.
 
If I can hate myself enough that I can justify the actions
of a mother or a lover or a friend who did not love me enough.
 
Then maybe me, a many-headed beast will crawl back
into the underworld, gnaw on a bone, and never cry.
 
Only howl.