cellophane

Born in a breeders back yard.

Ripped from my mother as soon as it was ‘safe’ for me to be.

Bought by a family that didn’t know how to take care of me.

Bought me to show me off, that they could own a beast like me.

Now I reside in this cage.

This cage is my prison; it is my chamber.

One day I will get out and hurt, and when I do, I will be put down for it.

Say I was defective.

I will bite someone and die because of my instincts.

My head will be cut off, so they can check if I have rabies.

My family will be sad for a while.

But soon they will buy a new dog.

One from the same breeder.

And they will put that new dog in the same cage they kept me in.

A/N: Grappling with the grief of losing a dog and being attacked by a dog inspired this. This poem is named after a FKA twigs song.