Puppy Love

By
More by this author
Those torturous summer nights of sleeping in the shed have scarred me,
I cannot see the light anymore,
Only your gleaming fur illuminates my dark, empty soul.

Stars are not in my visible spectrum,
But all other senses are ablaze, a wildfire plowing through my intestines.
Tireless rolls, the muffled squeak of your petite figure moving on a terry cushion,
A sniff, the sweet pad of your paws on the sidewalk,
And that growl.
It’s a delicate growl, nearly a purr, and it turns me into a savage who will bite the heads off any single being who lays a paw on you.
I’ll be your guardian forever.

It is irrevocable love, I whimper, pouncing on a toy with all the rage of a lion.
I’m too intoxicated to let it go.
Yes, the high-and-mighty king of the block’s newly-paved asphalt road.

I can hear the owners chatting,
Earnest to point out that you are “touching tails” with some mutt,
Brushing your glossy side against this matted bush which by the way,
is probably dancing with fleas.
And what is that repulsive, gut-churning stench!
M’lady, what you need is a fine and handsome young prince,
Such as me, of course.
I shall cater to your every whim,
Run to you like men chase after supermodels.

I can just imagine how radiant a coat you have,
your smoldering eyes, capturing mine and holding them, making my knees wobble like a case of Purina.
Seeing you after you bathe,
droplets cascading down your sides till they almost float to the ground,
riding on a parcel of your aura.

That is why I really wish I could forget listening to you,
Not heeding to the other’s warnings.
You know, everyone makes mistakes,
yet I’m still paying for yours.
I have for a while now,
and always will.

But Heather!
You can show me the sun.
You can play with me,
dash with me,
Hold me and love me,
bring back the poor and rather mangled remains childhood, which you robbed away,
So, so quickly.
I couldn’t even catch the bits and pieces that fluttered bitterly from your paws.

No lights can guide me home.
My head is low at the river, forever lapping up the briny tears I shed.
I’m so tired that I can’t sleep. Never.
Why I can’t forget and forgive? These memories are stuck in reverse.
A bloody mess, a butchered carcass shaded by weeds.
Roadkill.
Go ahead, now why don’t you try to fix me.





Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback