flight or fight

like a dog with no concept of time
staring out the window, waiting for her owner
to come home;
it’s an instinct like flight or fight.

she loved me less than one would love a dog.
who would leave a dog waiting forever?
but dogs never win.
they are the first to be eaten on a failed expedition
they are put to work, put to sleep, put outside,
made to serve a purpose.
as the owner sees fit.
and then when the purpose is obsolete.
the cuddliness and softness of the fur is expendable.
the dog can be put down,
and the secrets whispered with quivering lips will die with it.
even the guilt.

love is cruel in the darkness of cages.
time no longer exists and sad, wise eyes
stay fixed on unconditional thoughts.

but even dogs give up sometimes.
they let go and give up eating, drinking.
heart broken, the beating stops.
with no purpose, they willingly let go.

© november 2005