Canis Minor (Lesser Dog)

We're the stars in this tragedy, rehearsing lines behind bars. 
Ensnared by a fate resigned to; this play was written for us in the stars. 
You're not the villain yet, but one of us will have to take the blame -  
like a dog that suffocates a bird softly, addicted to the hunting game. 

A feather-covered mouth will tell you whatever you want to hear:
dropping prizes gleefully at your door, sacrificing the most virtuous deer.
An offering for the Gods, darker smoke burns its message into skies of blue.
I'd believe you if you told me this is the only thing you know how to do. 

I wish I never asked you for anything, rewarded such a useless hunt. 
Now you're a beast accidentally socialized, a programmed little runt. 
A hydra with a million immortal heads, a hundred-faced shape. 
A dodecagon of destruction. A labyrinth with no way of escape. 

So it's a fairy tale. So it's a forgery. So we're pawns in a scheme.
The real villain is always unexpected; the impenetrable scorpion of my dreams.
So there's been a betrayal. Splashing in the sea as I try to make it away, 
an arrow shoots clean through the heart - the hunter becomes the prey. 

So we're dirty, ripped apart, ragged and you're trying to pet me clean. 
Wrapped in your arms leaking, my blood mingling with your marine.
So scripts must be discarded and prop weapons tossed aside - 
even Gods are easily tricked and must learn to abandon their pride.

So scoop me up, tell me we had no idea it would end like this, 
tell me this ocean can stretch into a sky. 
They'll draw us up as the constellations, an eternity for you and I. 

_{Jane, 19, England.}