Dead. That is what I am deep down, buried within me. Inside my being.
My soul crumples under your hot and icy hand, as it slowly, but firmly, tightens its
grip around my already wounded heart.
But, even though I suffer under your touch, you still manage to make it gentle and loving.
Hot tears slowly make their way down my swollen cheeks for the last time, dripping down to a pool cupped in my open palms.
As each one spills over, I think of you…how you held me tight…how you looked at me with your warm eyes.
I think of my best friends…how she wagged her tail and licked my face when I bent down to say good morning.
How she purred and cuddled against me at night to comfort me, when once again, without knowing it, you wounded me.
Who could have thought you were so cruel in the end?
I would give you parts of my soul. But you, so oblivious to everything, would not take them. Leaving them to wander aimlessly, lost, out in the world.
In time, my being diminished… and now here I am, ready to give you my last of everything, whether you will take it or not.
