good dog tired

here are some things about you
that i might not have said before,
when the iron glinted off your fillings
and your smile reminded me of falling, running into
traffic:

you eat better than him.
quietly,
happily.
you want to feel the warmth,
even if you don't know how
or when to ask the right questions
or how to say the right things
or realize that almost everybody wants you gone
in some way,
but not that way.

if you could choose one emotion,
it would not be self pity.
(unlike him).
and i'm betting that if you could choose
servitude or save my life
you'd do the latter or you'd take up knife.

and at least you're not a walking corpse
who sighs into his hands and rubs his eyes
like there is no tomorrow,
like he's going to die.
like you're the reason,
and i'm a part.
a part
apart
apart.
maybe one day.