The Water and the Dog (Poem)

Every Sunday morning, I get up at 8:00, take my meds on an empty stomach

Shower, eat breakfast then get dressed and pack my bag

I have to look good

I have to look punctual

I have to appear put together

I have to look like I walked into Sunday morning knowing exactly who the manger is

I have to be enough...
Please let me be enough
You know maybe that’s the problem 
I am not enough
I am like a blanket that is too short and always leaves your feet cold
I am like a flower that never blooms 
I am like a sip of water in the desert 
Enough to give you a taste but never enough to satisfy 
I am so sorry I left you thirsty 
Is my love never enough?
My love can come in two ways 
In teardrops or in tsunamis 
I either leave the person I am with dying of thirst or drowning
I am always not enough or maybe it’s that I am too much
Did you know that you can overwater your plants? 
Or even overfed your dog? 
I fed my dog this morning, kibble with a bit of water and one raw egg
Three hours later he came crawling back to me begging for more food
His tail was between his legs
He was looking at the ground, sadness in his eyes 
He knew it was wrong
And I knew I shouldn’t have done it but I gave him kibble with a bit of water and one raw egg
It hurt to see him act like he was starving
If the dog acts like he is starving enough 
Who am I to deny him what he thinks he needs… 
Who am I to deny you what you think you need…
I am so sorry I overfed you
Can I kill someone from the act of overfeeding and underwatering
I wonder if this love I hold inside my chest can be a form of violence
Or even worse, is it a form of a weapon, a form of succession
What does my love take form in?