To Love Or Not At All

These hallow walls are filled with my screams, they screamed back at me. No windows and no light insight. I cant breathe in here. The air thick, dust everywhere, and nothing is clean. My tears mop the floors, my skin dust these corners, and my hair is the trash can. When the doors open, I’m kicked like a dog. A dog gets tired of getting kicked. I have to lick water from a bowl as he demands me to or I will be dragged and drowned. It’s rare that I actually get to eat more than one time a day. Bread crumbs are on the floor for me and the rats to feast on. I’m not allowed to use an actual toilet. My leavings are left here where I have to lay my head with no pillow or blanket. Flies surround me like my family once did. I have no leash, but I get tied down. At night I have to squirm to one corner for protection. I’m filthy with no help in this dark place. What kind of love is this?

~Arganise

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