I think about you like you were a dog.
The kind that droop, just made out of skin
(the sad kind).

I always wondered if the dogs would start crying in a ball on their bed, wrapped in blankets with their makeup running, trying to be quiet
(so their moms couldn't hear)
if I didn't call them.

But I know that dogs
(no matter how ****** you are to them)
always come back.
Like whatever you did wasn't that bad.

Like it was their fault.