otis p. driftwood mishler

i miss my dog.

i've got your memory crammed in my pocket 
in the shape of some leather, your name and a locket.
the telephone wires remind me of crosses
i stand beneath 'em, counting my losses. 

it's been seven rough days, seems everything's changed.
sun up to moon down just isn't the same.
the colors don't blend, they protest to gray. 
most everything i know has darkened in some way.

i feel like a wounded animal
sobbing desperate mammal
wish everyone would stop all the huggin'
it's nature to blame... but so is the loving. 

been told there's light at the end of this tunnel,
that you're walking over some bridge, sure, guess i'm thankful.
you can keep your light, i'll take the blackness
feel like i earned it, like deep scarred soul badges.

i know you walked 'round the block 'til you ran into me.
you sat on my couch, in my bed, at my feet.
knew nothing 'bout nothing until you taught me
that loving means losing eventually.

(the worst photo i've ever taken in my life has now become my favorite.) "mallory's swollen eye'd, vessels burst, sad as fuck... i miss my dog" face.