I’m standing at the front door…

 I’m standing at the front door.

It’s snowing huge ice cubes, and I’m freezing.

I need to run.

I’m moving through doors, and I hear my father’s voice-

he is dead.

I stumble through the back door,

I have no choice but to curl up and cry.

Here, there is nothing but void,

a darkness that gnaws,

a sadness that swallows.

As I’m being consumed,

you, my lovely dog, come to me

and shared your pure love.