You call me your dog,
your *****, your fool,
hurling words like stones
to shatter my heart.

I wag my tail anyway,
smiling through trembling lips,
fetching scraps of kindness
from the shadow of your hands.

You call me useless,
a beast beyond learning,
but I only want to please you—
to sit, to stay, to love.

Even as you turn away,
your voice cracking the whip,
I crawl through every wound,
bearing the weight of your name
like a leash around my soul.

For to be your dog
is still to be near you,
and I, the fool,
would bleed to feel you call me mine.

Are you there?
If so,
it's less.

And you say don't plant flowers,
then wonder why we have no garden.

And you say don't call you by name,
then wonder why we've become strangers.

And you say don't give,
then wonder why we share nothing.

And you say don't speak freely,
then wonder why meals are so silent.

Are you there?

Are you?

Warm bourbon bottle company
I won't need you anymore
Once the last drop is emptied
Ill sing myself a song of sadness
And fall asleep right where you left me