I called you Master

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The time has come,
I went driving on the dark highway looking for the part of myself
I left in your care.
That tender, gentle dog of a girl.
The one I put in your hands,
when you asked me, breath hot and sweet in my ear.
You asked me for those words
that are so hard for me,
waited for them,
as I struggled in my awkward, shy, desperate, silence,
words that hurt and sting and burn.
One word, pulls me apart,
and leaves me so endlessly vulnerable.
You pull it from me like a golden thread,
wind it around your strong calloused fingers,
and you take the girl that falls out home.
For a little while it feels good, blissful.
You lavish attention, affection.
Treats and pets.
She sleeps at the end of your bed.
She curls to you, face into your hand.
She believes in you.
And trusts you.

Your life changes,
Life changes.
New house, new carpets,
New job, new girlfriend.
Dog of a girl finds herself out in the yard.
She paces a path in the grass down to the dirt.
No real collar,
just a twist of rope that bites into her neck.
But she’s said the words and she’s a dog of a girl.
She scratches at the porch door until the wood is marked,
but no response comes.
She grows lean and lonely.
She does the low wag,
doesn’t even have one of your old shirts to lay on for comfort.
She digs a hollow in the yard to rest in,
and pretends it’s the solid warm shape of your lap.
Patient in the way all dogs are,
she follows commands even though she is neglected.
Does as asked,
even when it is asked casually and with no thought.
She takes her scraps and flops back into the shape of her hollow in the yard.
Neighbor kids are cruel to her, and she has no place to hide, no shelter.
The rope strains and grows frayed.
Her pacing grows fretful.

It’s past time where she should be taken to a shelter,
Or released from the frayed and casual rope of language
that meant so much to her.
The words that hold her, should be unwound by you.
The day comes where
she’s not even in the yard.
You take her in your truck, down the busy highway, and push her out.
Leave her abandoned on the side of the road.
Cars scream past, and a high fence keeps her close to danger.
No where to go.
Dog follows the way the car went.
Confused.
She doesn’t know what has happened
or why
you abandon her.
I go to get her. The drive is long to Kansas.
I open the door to my car and she hops in. Crouching and hand shy after much neglect. I pull the door closed and carefully work the rope free of her neck. She whimpers as I do it. She still doesn’t understand, and looks for you in my car.
She wishes you were come to save her, not me.
But I am here, and I am what she has.
I give her water and feed her with comfort, and the shelter of my protection from your indifference.
I take her back from you.
I take me back from you.
My sorrow is great.

I’ll make new rules,
and define some boundaries
that will help me keep her safely protected.
To be alone with you,
is to risk her to your hand.
I can only keep her back so well.
Given half a chance.
she’ll slink on her belly to you.
She’ll push her nose into your hand,
and breath warmth into your palm.
and that’s just not safe.
You’re just not safe.
You asked,
and then threw away what I gave you.
It’s a long drive home,
and my heart drags along behind me on a ragged bit of rope.

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2 Comments
AnonymousAnonymousover 5 years ago
This is tragic and beautiful

You are a beautiful writer.

Richard

RhymeFairyRhymeFairyalmost 18 years ago
Deeeep

A bit long, but deeply felt. Pulls at the heartstrings this one. I love the imagery of the dog/slave ... nice word usage and impressions here. You come across crystal clear. Maybe edit out a bit, one of those that you have to *feel to follow, and I loved it. Very good poem with a lotta feeling ~

Just me ~

More More More Plaese~!!!!

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