Dog Eat Dog World

A small snippet from my personal journal.

Is it so wrong to compare myself to a mutt. To compare myself to, not a family companion but once was so long ago? That I will forever see myself as some kind of rabid animal, an animal. Something not wild yet also something that has been damned by humanity time and time again to the point of where you feel reduced to such. A once happy dog, a bud, a buddy, a baby. To be endeared so ferociously�"but who is to question when such loyalties vanish in an instant? Then what is left of a mutt who has had such faith in itself�"what is left of man’s best friend when I am nothing of friendliness, nothing of acquaintance, and oftentimes something that is reduced to nothing. Something that is nothing and gets carried away in the wind like a silent sign. Hunkering with hips swaying in the streets, ribs jutting out through matted fur and desolate, cloudy eyes. It reflects nothing of me, I swear. I swear I am a golden pet, head dipped and waiting for your soft hand.  

Author's Note

This isn't quite meant to be poetry, just something from my own personal journal.