Technical finale? I had a title for this that was better but I can’t come up with anything better than that.
I’m tired of dead dogs
tw: animal death, gore
Ripping open my skull and feeding it to dogs. They snap frontal to get to my amygdala and feast. Tearing open my liver to feed to hawks and unspooling my veins like spiderweb to feed the mice.
I’m coughing up blood. I’m tired of running.
I’m being torn apart by dogs and it’s painful but I’m surviving as they tear the flesh from my shoulders. The blood is leaking through my clothes, and I’m sorry. What the hell, I’m sorry.
My body’s giving out so by God, and it’s going to heaven (I think,) so with my last breath, to the dogs that turn up dead under houses, that run underneath and get left on the road, I’m sorry neither of us can do more for heaven on Earth or hell underground and it’s gonna kill us.
They seem proud, but I know they’ll starve tomorrow. It seems an unfair fate.
crying on her doorstep, her family’s screaming behind a door that’s not thick enough but somehow always thicker than its supposed to be. I give her my coat, it’s no more warming than me
because I know I can’t undo this. I can’t storm inside and make them accept reality
so we sit on her doorstep, and she cries and weeps and I can’t do anything but hope my coat holds her better than I can
maybe I’m too afraid to say anything. she’s run her throat too dry to speak. There’s a dark feeling in my chest, asking if I’ll lose her, I hope I won’t when she’s my world, but something tells me that’s not my choice. I don’t know anymore.
It’s two am. Where the hell am I.