Entry #2: Hound

Friday, January 12th, 2024 Hound #2

I do not love the way I should. I love with claws and fangs. I love with bites and bloodshed. I love until it cascades from my body, like a bathtub overflowing with water as it desperately tries to hold onto the excess liquid. My love spills over onto the tile floor and spreads like a disease. I cannot halt the overflow.

The moment I see you leave, I will turn on myself like a rabid animal. I will gnaw at my flesh and rip it apart until there is nothing left but my stricken bones. I will mend my self-inflicted wounds in silent surrender after you have walked out the door, like a hound after a dogfight. But for me, there is no other dog, for I am my own judge, jury and executioner. 

I do all of this, not because I blame you for leaving, but because I blame myself for letting you get too close. I should know better by now. People are transient; just a fleeting moment in time. We are all so impermanent in each other’s lives, and I am nothing but a hollow creature: A hound.

-P.L Taylor