Ruffles your hair in the soft of the summer patch, sunbeams cling to you like honey then later cling to my ever growing hopes of happy happy love. silly silly silly winky-**** he bruises you with stains of purple-pink which later fade to yellow like 'le soleil' friction burns will come from 'le soleil' and linger and cling to your chest like an arrow through the heart. heart-throb. you belittle me one too many times doodle-bug.

Rosie roses are nice to fancy and fathom but thorns only puncture pale skin and drain you of your ruby juice until you are nothing but a dusty, hollow skin shell. pale naïve and empty to be filled with dreams, desires and demands as well. hate is not easily boiled in your kitchen kettle water but I think that's a good thing munchkin.

Hold back your disdain bite your tongue crack your teeth and do not repeat what your brain whispered it has been lying to you since the day you were born you silly silly silly... this is a ripping seam in your moonbeam and your emotions begin curdle and to leak out like fish but then you remember crying is okay but **** such salt water back in and say naught. distraught.

At witching hour it will come at you a cold sweat in the night where your fingers tingle and your meat twinkles faces before you with holes for irises. they have been sent to inject mishap and upside down rainbow viruses. when was the last bedtime you had cloudless soul with organic thoughts? oh fleshly girl tip-toe lightly as blood trickles down your ego and melts it away to stardust to form another cheeky doodle-bug munchkin grin

There he is, my little baby boy, his fluffy ginger fur spiked out in all directions.

His eyes, like coco powder surrounding a drop of pure vanilla. They are so big and heart catching I have to mention.

His spiraled tail laid over his back and spread out like a fire work. Curly and a sandy color, it stands out against his Gingerbread coat.

His tiny, dainty, quick moving paws always in a scurry as he races to his little window, barking in a  high pitch squeal, his spirit always in a float.

His fur flows in a fluffy rustle when he stands outside to strut his pride, his little mocha mountain peaks alert and doesn't miss a single action.

He walks like the world revolves around him, he runs for nothing but his own fancy desires, He flaunts his cute looks, with the sway of his tail and barks at other dogs just to get a good reaction.

His white furred lips speak of whimpers and pleads to me whenever I'm down,  He lays over my arms when I type, sick of not being the center of attention.

He allows his two back legs to fly behind him when he kicks in demand. He bangs his two front paws to the ground when he's frustration for not getting his way. There's too much tension.

I can't help but to laugh at the pathetic adorable soul! Thinking he can live his spoiled "perfect" worry-free life forever.

But even the greatest break, people wear a mask, and so do dogs! He pretends he doesn't need any body. He think's he's so clever!

Behind that perfectly circular face of fluff and eye seeking attention, is a heart of fear... There is no drop of bravery within him...

As his mother, as his human, as his owner I feel his fear, for we both fear the same thing... The higher authority, our changes to them are dim...

When he is around them, his tail hangs low to hide it's spark, his shiny wondering eyes look down in shame of his small size and courage.

His mountain peeks collide in an avalanche. They lay back and hide their mighty heights. His hopefulness for joy could not flourish...

His eyes water up like a river from a down pour... have you ever seen tears pour from a dogs eyes at a constant rate? I have...

His pride as an Alpha was only an act, his true identity is all omega, his mind and heart have been split into halves...

He's high pitch but low noted howl does not ring when he is in the state of depression as omega. He instead taps his two little light paws against my chair as I sit...

I look down and sadly sometimes I ignore him. My mind already in a struggle. But the little one is wise as well. He'll kick his back legs and howl to catch my attention and throw a fit!

He knows I need his little fluffy sweet comfort, and he needs my warm embrace and my soft lap.

The only time he always look so content and happy is when I hold the little dear and he purposely falls backwards so I may hold him like a baby, an opportunity I have to grab

He has a big smile on his soft furry face, his eyes pleasantly closing, his body pliable and limb.

You would think he was fake by the peaceful contentment on his face, his little black paws up in the air, so many adore him

Only because of his physical appearance, not because of the longing to change sweet hearted Pomeranian from within

When I set him down, the peace instantly breaks, his happiness is shattered, his nose sniffing up at me in disbelief, he needs thicker skin.

Munchkin... you had two owners before us, the first one threw you out of the car in front of a pet store...

The other locked you up in your cage for too many helpless countless hours... you remember this for sure.

The Lord is merciful... for we have came to the rescue, your soul is now being built back up... we promise we won't abandon you. I won't abandon you...

If only you knew how the Lord has used you in my life... The blessing you have been. This owner ship refuses to move.

You are my sweet Pomeranian Munchkin... and I am your owner
Have No Fear Little Fluff.. Have No Fear  

*I love you <3