TO THE DOG

Damned be the hands that once tried to touch you. Dear child.

I'm sorry you had to watch The Fox hurt you again and again and I'm sorry you are not as important to her as that damn machine. I would be sorry for The Fox lying to you but you're actually OK with it. As long as she keeps you around you will trust her blindly.

You don't think much of it because you're scared of yourself. You know that when the thought hits you, you will be undistinguishable from the one that hurt you.

It's a cycle. Your despair will be inevitable.

You will suffer. Your breath will fail to accompany your thoughts and you will close your eyes when hurting her. When her body dismantles in front of you, you'll workship it and indulge in the blood scaping from from what is left of it. You will treat it with care.

The sorrow in your prayers is not enough to make God answer you. You wait for something that will not happen. 

Dirty dog, bathed in red. Have you no shame for what you've done? Why did you do that? Bad. Bad. Very bad puppy. I hope you're content with the sea of blood surrounding you.

I'm posting things on tumblr now