i was small when you chose me.
a ribbon tied beautifully around my neck,
shaking in a box
the sun too bright for my eyes.
you smiled,
and i mistook it for kindness.
my forever home.

i learned quickly
that love can wear faces.
that hands can come down hard and still call it discipline.
that food is not promised, even if you sit.
even if you beg.
even if you try to be the best boy.

the chain outside never rusted faster than my hope did.
i stopped barking for help when no one came.
just curled tighter,
colder,
quieter.

you taught me fear by name.
it was yours.

when i peed on the carpet,
it wasn’t defiance.
i just couldn’t hold it anymore.
you never let me out.
but you held my head down like my lungs were made to drown.
and i thought,
maybe this is what love feels like to monsters.

you forgot to name me.
so i named myself sit.
so i named myself stay.
bad dog.

i chewed the furniture once
not to destroy,
but because no one left me toys,
and my teeth ached with the loneliness of growing.

do you remember when i licked your hand after you hit me?
i do.
i thought maybe if i gave you all of my love,
yours might finally stay.

they say dogs are loyal.
but what they mean is:
“we forgive the unforgivable
with our tails still wagging.”

i would’ve died for you.
but you made me live like this instead.

and now i sleep in silence
a small grave behind the shed,
where no one visits.
where no one remembers.
but i remember.

i remember everything.

and still,
i hope your next dog knows only warmth.
and that if ghosts have teeth,
mine are dull.

because i only ever wanted to be good.
even if you never said i was.

Y’know,
the world is flying
right past you now
the water is dark and thrashing
approaching quickly
to flood your lungs
but not before
time floods your mind
with everything
you’re about to lose.

Never again, will you
elbow her in the backseat
dying of laughter
over something
no one else would get
Never see her cap and gown
and smile awkwardly
for a quick family pic
Never hold shaking hands
down the aisle.
The only church you’ll share now—
she’ll be in black,
you’ll be in a box.

Never again, will you feel
the leash tug
after some sly squirrel
Never again hear
a sudden bark
break a silent morning
and never again be greeted
by kisses and tail wags —
not now.
Instead he’ll sit
wondering where you went,
when you’re coming back

Never again, will you
love till your heart hurts
laugh till your ribs ache
cry till your throat’s sore
lie awake contemplating life
feel the familiar burn of the sun.
scream to the sky
just because
Never, experience
the extraordinary mess
that we call life —
ever again

And even if you wanted to—
even if you begged—
it’s too late now.
you’re already
going down.

He was a puppy,
Blue eyes, stubby tail, floppy ears.
We walked every day
                Sometimes twice or three times
And he loved every one.
Chasing squirrels, watching birds,
Looking back toward me
Showing love the way only a dog can.

He got bigger, our times together did too.
Then my little girl was born into this life
          And suddenly I didn’t have time.
No time for walks
No time for lounging
No time for ear scratches watching rain
No time no time no time!

I wish I had taken the time.

Yesterday he crossed the rainbow bridge.
Seven years is entirely too few.
It felt like this could never happen
Like he’d be there no matter what
But I wasn’t there for him.
I had to say goodbye through a grainy
Video.
And now he’s gone.

I wish I had taken the time.

How many times I walked past him?
How many times I didn’t reach out?
How many times I kept on going about
My day?
But what about his day?
Wasn’t I his whole day?
Wasn’t I his morning, noon, and night?
Wasn’t my attention all he wanted?

I wish I had taken the time.

And now…
God ****** now… HOW?!
How do I explain to a 3 year old
That Duke isn’t coming home today?
That Duke’s bed will always be empty?
That Duke’s fish won’t need food in it?
That Duke’s leash will gather dust?
That we’ll never hear his ears shaking
Or his feet tapping
Or his “ahh-rooo” howling?
That he’s gone

I wish I had taken the time.

Why didn’t I just take the ******* time?

There is a hole now.
Not torn, not ripped
but hollowed.
Like wind wore down the center of me
with soft, persistent cruelty.
No thunderclap,
just the slow erosion
of something that once stood watch.
You were barely more than breath,
a flicker in the straw,
a warm weight that made morning feel
intentional.
And I
the one who named myself protector
looked away.
That is all it took.
One glance elsewhere,
and the universe took back its loan.
I did not cry out when it happened.
There was no sound left in me.
Only the sick realization
that absence has a shape.
That love leaves residue.
That I was the architect of your undoing.
Now the days come blank.
Food tastes like guilt.
The sky is heavy with things I cannot fix.
My hands. these hands
they shake, not from fear,
but from knowing they could have stopped it.
How many heartbeats have passed
since yours didn’t?
Time moves, but I do not follow.
I sit within the rift,
counting all the ways I failed you
a thousand imagined rescues
playing out too late,
too slow.
There is no metaphor here.
No phoenix in the ashes.
Just me,
and the grave I dug
with the illusion of safety.
Hope feels obscene now,
as if it doesn’t remember
who you were.
And I am tired.
So deeply tired.
Because to love something,
and then lose it
to your own neglect,
is to live each moment afterward
as punishment.

my cat is crying,
crying still, and always loud.
his mouth is grief incarnate.
what name could hold you,
you feathered fury,
you opera of complaint.

We all need someone.
When we just feel done.
When we are left with no one.
When there’s no one left.
When I’m upset,
I turn to my pet.
My bunny, always stays.
Beside me and lays.
Comforting me through the days.
Looks up into my eye.
Whenever I cry,
Till my eyes dry.