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Bad Dog
I own a dog
I don’t tell a lot people my dog’s name, or that I have one
My dog is not a good dog
I’ve had my dog since I was little
It was a quiet presence then
Rarely playing a part in my life
Until it bit me
I don’t know why or what provoked it
But I was more wary of it
Now I knew it had teeth
When I was 11, my dog attacked me
It threw itself on top of me
Growling in my face
Clawing at my throat
Biting at my chest and arms
I couldn’t get free
I couldn’t fight back
I couldn’t escape
I thought I was going to die
By the time I was 14, I had been bitten a lot
I took my dog to a trainer every week
It took months before I could even get a collar on it
My dog now listens on command
I give it two treats a day, everyday
I have gotten my dog under control
But sometimes, it keeps me awake at night with its howling
Nudging me closer and closer to edges
Nipping at my heels letting me know it’s still there
I own a dog
We have battled against each other for a long time
I can't get rid of my dog
But I have learned to tolerate it
My dog mostly sleeps now a days
But I always remember
Even a tiny dog can be a bad dog too
I have realized lots of people have dogs
Some bigger or smaller
Some meaner or nicer
Most dogs just try to wound their owners
But some are a lot meaner and have made attempts on their life
And sometimes they win
Mine almost did
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I wrote this in experience of my own "bad dog" which was depression and anxiety. The "bad dog" in the poem is meant to conform into whatever the reader wants it to be. It could be from a traumatic experience, mental illness, bad/abusive relationship or any other struggle the reader has gone through.