Alive Again

I am that Rottweiler Bitch

Whose litter of puppies died

And I will find nine replacements, 

Be it a fuzzy slipper,

A stuffed animal

Or an abandoned baby squirrel 

And I will nurse it back to life

Because every single morning 

I wake up

Alive.

Some may want me to carry 

The flame of eternal love,

An idealistic image of romance,

But let me tell you 

There is no romance in an empty bed,

No comfort in placing ones head

On an imaginary chest

Because every single night

I went to bed

Alone.

Here in this little room

I can see what remains of my life;

I have held it in my hands

And watched it slip away

While I grieved what I had lost.

Lost no longer,

I have been found.

Broken and broken have come together

And for the first time in years

I sleep sound.