"The world is flat!"
the dog chokes while
hitting his head against the concrete wall in the stairwell.
"You'll never understand me,
and neither will my parents."
Head in my lap, he coughs.
My hands and gaze are coated in saliva
and something I don't recognize.
The air weighs a ton and shrieks like
'the lasting impact of neglect'
the dog is deaf.
I drop him,
a deliberate show of apathy and
the only tool that remains to me
to stifle my selfish and substantiated rage.
I know the bond is broken,
but I have borrowed myself a razor shell
and I will not emerge again.