Nighttime
I shamefully cut pieces of bread
With quick, precise slices, some panicked
The night seems calm and still,
And the dog runs to my side; waiting.

Mother told me not to feed him
He was properly fed
But he looked like he really wanted a slice
So I gave him one
Fully knowing next time he'll want more

Nights come & go and I'm downstairs
It's a habit now that doesn't phase me
Slicing pieces of bread oh so quickly
More and more every night
As even the dog wants more

I forgot the moment when I gave in
When instead of letting my dog whine
I would continuously feed him more
Without even noticing
He'd eaten the whole loaf

The night stands still
The knife naught but my curiosity
The bread but the canvas it plays on
The dog is the constant greed of sin
And this cycle continues