All the Days I Chose To Ignore

I am a dog: panting, suffocating, dying Clawing at the door of the car You trapped me in. I am the next act of the play you’re watching; You knew I was coming, but you chose to Leave the venue before I came on stage. I am all the days that you choose to ignore I am the Sundays, the Mondays, the Tuesdays, And the Wednesdays, but never the Thursdays or The Fridays. I am never the relief, never the sun, never the spring, Never the hot tea on a cold day. Instead, I am the dying dog trapped inside your car, the worst part of the movie, The disappointing end to the book you’re reading: I am never what you look forward to. I am the cat on its ninth life, the tortoise thrown Into the bottom of the lake, the tiger with its Teeth torn out. I am nothing, nothing but trying Trying to break the glass that covers your frame, But instead of broken glass I am left only with broken hands, Bleeding and broken from the picture, The picture that I couldn’t be in.