Stupid asshole cat.
Are you trying to fly again, my dear?
You’re brandishing the broomstick like a man on a mission,
staring out at the boundless sky, where the lady in the moon
is awaiting her replacement.
Shoot up the bedroom,
eat the remains of the day
if there is a scream left, throw it out the window
I will still be here, always here.
You are dancing in the living room,
stirring up the dust mice, shaking up the grout
I will chase them away, the rats and the roaches
just for you.
I trip over the same spot every morning.
A little ledge before the kitchen,
just before you drop.
It is the threshold that gets me, every time.
Slowly and shakily, shivering into a stop
I avoid the puddles on the floor,
deadly to your sightless eyes. I will admit it,
if I had known they were sighless before
I am afraid, sometimes.
The broom swishes unpleasantly
the bristles land on my back,
but I’m still here, so it must be okay,
you are the only home I have left.
If you are flying, take me with you
if you want to dance, I will take your hand
if you fall, I will pull you up as many times as it takes,
Just don’t leave me-
I left a dead mouse
at the foot of your missing bed.
I hope that can be enough. I hope that it was enough.