paws for thought


When people ask,

“What’s wrong?”, I

can bat them away

with the phrase –

“Black Dog stuff”.


Then I don’t

have to explain

nausea –

morning sickness

of the mind


Or my

perfectionist heart –

shredding thoughts,

actions, utterances;

a form of

deliberate self harm


eventually my

Freudian slip mind

bites back –

you are no longer

scary, all

powerful – I

am no longer

in your grasp.


You are now

a child’s toy –

just a

“stuffed black dog”.

I can put you

back in the box.



Des Mannay


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