You want to know where the shotgun came from? It came from my knee-- this was a weapon birthed from patella and ligament, hard hitting myth born the day I decided I would not leave a man’s hands wrapped around my windpipe. It took years to get around to defending myself, it took less than a minute without oxygen as if my head had been forced underwater in the River Styx fish swimming by a baptism into adrenaline fast riddle of flesh this time the answer was a leg. I rammed my knee into the soft tissues of his belly and forced that man’s body from mine. Like that–I was breathing again and only the sky was blue.
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