Nothing is inherent.
The world will make you exactly what you’re meant to be:
everything you are is someone’s fault.
A sleigh dog has his work whipped into him,
the crack of the reins at the suggestion of slowing down.
Even in domestication,
even with the warmth of the world,
he will never escape the snow,
the reins and the cold,
and that’s exactly how he was meant to be.
Even if a starving man is fed,
he will never stop starving.
I know that even if he ekes out the last of every meal,
he will always be empty,
I know he will never fill the hole inside him
that the hunger left.
I know everyone has these holes left in them,
I know that they will never be mended.
And I know that’s exactly how they were meant to be.
