I Didn’t Cry
I’m going to the spring. . . the forest has changed. . . it’s going to snow soon. It is the equinox.
I’m going to die again soon. . . I know. I’m used to it. . .
I’ve been born many times . . . not for long. . . Here it is again this time. . .
I didn’t cry – I just really wanted to eat and my body was whining itself. . .
because I’m a puppy. . . in the body of a puppy.
They don’t care about me. . . They had a baby boy. . . another. Not me.
And I was given up. . .
First they poked me with a long needle. . . to make me die. . . It took them a long time to hit me in a deadly way. . . Then I don’t remember. . .
Then it was very dark and very cold. . . And I couldn’t hear anyone.
After the abortion, she walked around quietly, . . . thinking about the boy all the time. . .
She sat down next to the puppy in the yard. . . she was patting his head. . . said: ” … my good, good… ” And I came back. . . to live in the body of this puppy.
Soon she got pregnant again and stopped patting me. . . she thought there were fleas. . .
When I rushed to meet her and pulled the chain up on my hind legs. . . was wheezing, I wasn’t very good at barking, the collar pinched my throat, she shouted menacingly: ” … no, sit… what a fool… “
Then she became even angrier when I yapped. . . Once she beat me up me with a broom. . . she said: “… damn you, you son of a bitch… ” And I just wanted to say that they forgot to feed me today. . . and also that the chain is heavy and prevents me from walking – a few steps in one direction, then back – the chain does not allow further.
I don’t want her patting my head anymore. . . They have become completely strangers. . . I think I’m going to die soon. . . not because I’m old or ill – I’m only three years old – but because you can’t live longer in the body of a dog. . .
I don’t know who told me that – I’ve never spoken to anyone. . .
Then I’ll probably be born again in someone else’s body – it’s always been like this before. . .
I don’t remember when or how many times. . . a lot. . . – everything was confused in my head. . .
She tells him that boys should not cry, because he always cries when he wants something from his parents, and they do not give it.
I don’t cry either. . . I’m a boy after all.
And I also know that he is not their own. . . this other boy. . . I can see what gets out of his head sometimes. . . when he’s mad at them.
I also see others who live in his head.
They are not people