the stray black lab that ran
around with a friend and I
was ******* fearless.

he was one of us.

one night he chased a football
into the street, directly
into the path of a speeding black
jeep and ended up broken and howling in a way
I still hear sometimes.

He was even more one of us then.

It has been three years since
the night I died.
Three years since *******
myself on the bathroom floor
while the girl i loved stepped out
to buy some smokes.

death didn't have a sound,
but it still echoes through
me.

we never named the dog.