could his freedom be mine?
if your dog is the reflection of your soul, how terrible must he feel to be mine. you were created to be wild in the scottish mountains and herd sheeps until sunset. but i made you so tame. i pulled you in my hell with me and found comfort in your steady breathing, the lullaby who anchored me back home. i made you like me, skittish and sorry to be alive.
how guilty i feel to have stolen almost half your life just to save mine but how could i give you freedom when i was chained to my sorrows. so i leashed you, never allowing you out of my sight. i taught you to stay on the road and never stray paths.
i can't help but wonder if that's the answer. could you teach me to be wild? how do i give you back your freedom if you've never had it. how do you give me freedom if i don't let you live. could i become the reflection of your soul.






















