Born in a breeders back yard.
Ripped from my mother as soon as it was ‘safe’ for me to be.
Bought by a family that didn’t know how to take care of me.
Bought me to show me off, that they could own a beast like me.
Now I reside in this cage.
This cage is my prison; it is my chamber.
One day I will get out and hurt, and when I do, I will be put down for it.
Say I was defective.
I will bite someone and die because of my instincts.
My head will be cut off, so they can check if I have rabies.
My family will be sad for a while.
But soon they will buy a new dog.
One from the same breeder.
And they will put that new dog in the same cage they kept me in.
A/N: Grappling with the grief of losing a dog and being attacked by a dog inspired this. This poem is named after a FKA twigs song.
Jesus. This was a gut punch. Absolutely horrible to read, which means it was insanely successful and well written at its goal. I can feel the grief and the frustration ooze off the digital page. Well writ, my friend.
heartbreaking