Mutt

hiii welcome to what is basically my virtual diary kind of? if u feel the same as me then I hope u feel better soon <3

[loser-dog-diary]

I wasn’t made to be held. I was never supposed to receive love. I was only ever supposed to hurt and be hurt. I was only supposed to suffer, and until I’m put down, shaking, afraid, and alone, like most of my life. And until I get there, I’ll curl up in a corner, imagining someone beside me, waiting to die.

[loser-dog-diary]

I was only ever supposed to hurt and be hurt. I was only supposed to suffer, and until I’m put down, shaking, afraid, and alone, like most of my life. And until I get there, I’ll curl up in a corner, imagining someone beside me, waiting to die.

[loser-dog-diary]

how am I supposed to know you love me if your language is different than mine? I know I love you because I’m sick when you’re away. I tremble at the thought of losing you and I I’d kill to keep you with me. It doesn’t matter who I have to hurt, myself included, as long as you’re here none of the bad things I do matter because I’m loved by the most perfect thing.

But you love me nice. You speak, and you give, and you’re gentle and kind and pretty and sweet.

If you love me nice then what does that say about me? Do I love you mean? Am I hurting you?

You give me pretty words while I spit out my thoughts like acid in my mouth, as if it would hurt me to hold these thoughts any longer. You lick thr wounds that I created on myself when I thought I had to be without you. You sit beside me while I shake, but I know you’re not as scared as me. You’re not nearly as bad. You’re so good and I’m so me. How could I ever be good? How could I deserve something good? How do you not see how I am?

[loser-dog-diary]

“Good boy” but not in a sexual way in the sense that I need to be told that I am good. That I am, simply put, not bad. That I am not evil or painful or disgusting or useless or pathetic, but to you, I am good. I want to know that you can see that im doing my best, and that you’re proud of me.

[loser-dog-diary]

Date idea

You: hold my face in your hands and tell me that you’re proud of me, and that I’m such a good boy and it’s gonna be ok and I can rest now and I’ve done enough and I’m finally good

I: cry and hold onto you and tremble and just listen to you speak because I’ve waited my whole life for someone to treat me so gently

[deceased-dog]

[loser-dog-diary]

I hate that when I say I feel like a dog people think i mean something sexual by it. I never do. I mean I feel like a pathetic wet dog, limping outside in the rain with muddy paws, big, ugly, yellow teeth, matted fur, and sad, dead eyes. If you feed me I’ll stay, if you try to pet me I’ll whine and flinch away, and if you scare me I’ll bite and I’ll bite hard. Ill wait outside of houses I’d never be allowed in because I don’t deserve something that good. No, I deserve only the worst. I’ll curl up in a dirty corner behind a building and wait to fucking die.