Some dogs get it hand-fed, finely cut and oh so gently flavoured,
But I lick it off broken shards of porcelain, cutting my tongue to bleed with every lap
They're stupid, trusting fools - they think the walls are warm and ever present but I know--
The taste of blood on my teeth will linger forever
And I'll bite, be tossed out,
Frozen in the cold
(But it's much more than I deserve so I'll take it, adoring you with all my breath)







