I’m beginning to hate ice cream. (A poem)

I think my lack of writing has meant I’ve had a better life. 

My pride flag ripples from the fan, waving shades of grey in the cover of night. 

I lay under what used to be its comfort

Thinking how funny it is 

In this house

How the most splendid display of pride can be missed

By those who are blind. 

I still hate ice cream. 

I am only a sad dog. 

Have I ever known home if god haunted me to all my fears

And now that I have this peace and love

I’m shedding lovesick tears

Love sick is just home sick 

I’m homesick for his limeade and burritos 

A thousand miles away 

Wishing my hunger would hug him

So I might eat

But I still hate ice cream. 

I’m still only a Sad Dog. 

I was nearing another hypomanic episode I think, until I Dragged out of the house last night. I was plotting ways to make collars of ruffs and leather to match my mask and fare the weather

But today bound to bed, searching collars to send you

I still hate ice cream. 

I am only a sad dog. 

Can’t watch the TV glow if “family value” capitalism points out your lack of household belonging to paywall your media consumption. 

But you can still watch your own version of the last scene play out in your own bedroom,

Real time

That is 

If you don’t mind

Sitting with thoughts that make you love sick for Mama

Licking the wounds her praise left in the past

Desperately trying to lap up spilled sprinkles

Not to worry about the chocolate 

What they’ve done to keep you fed

Choosing another place to stead 

Would render you insane

With those crumbling legs

I’m great at producing fluid

Packing extra cotton in my mouth at the dentist

Puddling my snot a depth that seeps through the sheets

Along with what he thinks smells nice

The cactus cries even in droughts

Perhaps that’s why I have so many doubts

But still hate ice cream

Still stand like a sad dog

I know I am a grey ol thing when you see me

Laid like a biscuit in the hot sun

Shying away from your touch

I know I am a sorry thing

When I wear my muzzle in public view

Cover my ears and

close my eyes

Yet I cannot help but send a message to old friends to query

If I have earned their pride

When no one else has seen my puppy eyes

I am sorry. 

It is true.

I bite. 

It isn’t me, really

But this primal thing inside

As if it thinks I can’t survive 

Unless I betray my blessings and stop-

Cannot let the ice cream melt

I am only a Bad Dog