Dietary Manners

there's a horse, a medium brown, and it's standing right in front of me.
(so to speak.)
it blinks and snorts and stamps its hooves, because it knows its free.
i pretend not to notice. i pretend not to miss it when its gone.
horses were meant to gallop through forests and plains,
and me, i was meant to grin at the sun,
without fear of the holes that will inevitably be burnt through my skull.
please stop being such a creep to me.
set up on a mantle, where i have the time to watch it grow.
and twice the muggy happiness held firmly to my throat.
you're the earthworm, i'm the locket and i'd gladly fill myself with dirt.
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i feel like i'm looking foward to something, although i can't quite put my finger on what it is.
either 'sleep' or 'other'.

i think 'other'.