We are wild animals.
We run and scream with the moon, we keep our trust close. Our minds, and hearts, and souls are locked deep in our fleshy fortresses. Our skin grows cold and tough from the world, our fur grows long and tangles. We keep out tame and wild brethren alike. We show no weakness.
We live alone in our heads, forever.
My mum told me she loved me today, and i cried.
It dawned on me that even wild animals crave that pat on the head, to hear a familiar voice tell us that we are good dogs.
To know that we arent a waste.
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
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